p< 



J.5 3^ 



JOHN DELMER'S DAUGHTERS. 



A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. 



HENRY C. DE MILLE, 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR 

THE MADISON SQUARE THEATRE, 
NEW YORK. 



JOHN DELMER'8 DAUGHTERS. 



A COMEDY IN' THREE ACTS. 



'> 



HENRY a DE MILLE. 



ALL RIGHTS EESERVED. 




WRITTEN EXPRESSLY FOR 

THE MADISON SQUARE THEATRE, 
NEW YORK. 






COPTBISHT, 1883, 

Bt M. H. MALLOEY. 



JOHN DELMEE'S DAUGHTERS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Mr. JOHN DELMER, . . . . A wealthy Banker. 

MARTHA DELMER, His Wife. 

MARGARET, The elder Daughter. 

ESTHER, .... The younger Daughter. 
RHODA MANLY, . . . . . Their Friend. 
Dr. FRED. YAN ARNEM, . . . The Son-in-law. 
Dr. LEONARD WEST, . . The would-be Son-in-law. 
PALEY POMEROY, Their Friend. 



Scene — 



ACT I. 

The Study. 



"Advice." 



Scene- 



ACT IT. 
The Conservatory. 



' Treatment." 



Scene- 



ACT III. 
The Home. 



Cure." 



JOHN DELMER'S DAUGHTERS. 



ACT I. 

Scene — Dk. Van Arnem's study. Cosy, comfortable room. 
Doors R. 1 E., R. 3 E. and l. 2 e. Large fireplace R. 3 e. 
Alcove and hmo-window c. hack. Small table and cliair riglit 
of table c. Curtain rises on empty stage. Cold light of 
winter's afternoon shown outside. Snow falling. Fire 
burning. When curtain is full up, an oldfashioned clock 
strikes four. Enter Maid l. 2 e. followed by West. 

West. Dr. Van Am em will be here soon, you say ? 

Maid. Very soon, I tliink, sir. What name, sir ? 

West. No matter. Simply say that the gentleman whom 
he did not expect has arrived. (Maid gives astonished look, then 
exit R. 1 E. West, during this, takes off overcoat, gloves, etc., 
making himsef at home.) Fred wrote me that he had a sur- 
prise for me. But I'll give him a surprise. Dear old fellow ! 
we endured a great many hardships together. But from the 
looks of things he is throitgh with them. Perhaps it's his 
success he was going to surprise me with. Well ! I'll surprise 
him with mine. {Sees dressing-gown on back of chair R. c. a,nd 
as thought strikes him he begins putting it on.) Well ! cousin 
Fred, as you are not here to receive me, I'll receive myself, as I 
used to do in old college days. Cigars ! A whole box ! Oh ! 
Doctor, how the patients must have poured in ! I remember 
when we had to stop at half a cioar and put aside tlie other 
half till next day. {He has meamohile brought a cigar close to 
Ids nose. With slight start he holds it farther off and regards 
it.) But there were very few patients the day these were 
bought. {He has thrown down the first one and picked up a second. 
Same bui^.) Very ! He had to economize. {Same bus. with box.) 
It's my fixed opinion that he hadn't one patient. However, as I 
am going back to old times, why — {lighting cigar.) Ah ! the odor 
is full of reminiscence. {Crosses c.) Let's see. Fred always sat 
nearest ilie ^Te. {After a moment' s hesitation.) Yes, here was 
my place. {Sits in arm-chair l. c, taking up book, ichich he 
opens. Enter, r. tj. e., Paley Pomeroy. He stands for a 
moment amazed at sight o/ West, tJien crosses c, a little back of 



6 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

West.) And our old protege, Paley Pomeroy ; I suppose lie 
must be here. {Thoughtfully.) 

Paley, He is. 

West. {Starts and turns.) Paley Pomeroy ! 

Paley. L — Leonard West ! Is it really you ? 

West. What ? not believe the testimony of your own eyes ? 
Then feel. {Extends Ms hand.) 

Paley. Oh ! be thou a spirit of health or goblin — 

West. {Laughing and raising his hand reprovingly. ) Oh ! 

Paley. Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from — 

West. Oh ! 

Paley. I'll call thee — 

West. Father ? 

Paley. No^nearer. {Extending hand. They meet and 
shake hands. Paley looks wonderingly at drebsing-gown, then 
at West.) 

West. Yes, Fred's. I want to astonisli him. 

Paley. You'll do it. 

West. Yes, I always did have my own way of doing things, 
didn't I? 

PaIjEY. Yes, and from present appearances {indicating dress- 
ing-gown), you haven't changed a particle. 

West. It doesn't seem three years since I bade you and 
Fred good-by, to practise medicine out West. 

Paley. 'I'he glorious West ! 

West. Ali ! yes ; Colorado especially. Charming climate ! 
So delightful, so healthy, that if I hadn't taken to mining and 
railroading, 1 should have starved. 

Paley. Then you didn't have many patients ? 

West. Not many — bat much. I was the most patient 
man in Colorado. Waited three months before I had a call, 
and then the fellow died before I reached him. 

Paley. Frightened to death, probably, at the tbougbt of 
your inexperience. 

West. No, old age. People out there suffer from only two 
complaints — old age and bullets. Old age^and sure bullets put 
a man out of the reach of medicine. But, no matter about me. 
Tell me of Fred. When I inquired the way to Dr. Van Arnem's, 
I was astounded at being directed to such a palatial residence. 

Paley. Oh 1 this isn't Fred's house. 

West. Whose, then ? 

Paley. His father-in-law's. 

West. Fred married ? 

Paley. The most married man you ever saw. He's been 
counting on surprising you witb it. 

West. Oh ! that's his surprise, eh ? Whom did lie marry ? 

Paley. Miss Delmer, lier papa and mamma — especially 
mamma. 

West. Miss Delmer? 

Paley. The daughter of John Delmer. 

West. Whose daughter ? 

Paley. John Delmer's. 



JOHN delmee's daughtees. 7 

West. The banker? {Fxh^Y nods. West hurriedly pulls 
off dressing.-goton and resumes coat during the following.) That 
settles it. 

Paley. Settles what ? 

West. Settles me. I'm going. 

Paley. What's the matter ? 

West. Three years ago I wrote to Jolin Delmer's daugh- 
ter that I would call upon lier in the month of December, 
1883. Evidently she thought it best not to wait. 

Paley. What did you intend ? 

West. To marry her. 

Paley. {Staggering baek.) You — marry — Esther. 

West. Esther ? Who's Esther ? 

Paley. Fred's wife. 

West. Her name is Margaret. 

Paley. That's her sister. 

West. Sister ! {Collapses, sinking in chair.) Then John 
Delmer has more than one daughter: — 

Paley. Certainly. He has two — Esther and Margaret. 

West. {After a pause, looking up at ceiling.) Both mar- 
ried ? 

Paley. Only Esther. Margaret is not. 

West. {Sigh, smile, and shakes his head at Paley.) Paley, 
you stupid ! — I thought it a singular coincidence that Fred and 
the Delmers should both be living here at Tarrytown. Fortunate 
for me, though, for Fred could give me information of Margaret. 
I thought, you know, that he living near — but I never dreamed 
it was so near. 

Paley. {Sighs.) Yes {mea7iingly), very near. 

West. And so Fred has married into the Delmer family. 
(Jumping up.) How in the world did it happen ? 

Paley. Fred was the family physician. Esther was taken 
suddenly and dangerously ill. Of course Fred saved her life. 

West. Getting their lives saved seems to run in the Delmer 
family. / saved Margaret's life three years ago ; pulled her 
out from under a steamboat on the Mississippi ; and, in pulling 
7ier out, I fell in — in love with her. 

Paley. Three years ago ? Been waiting three years ? 

West. Oh ! the old reason. Her parents, their pride, and 
my pocket, three very powerful p's, naturally brought us to a 
fourth — parting. (Sings.) " We parted by the river, she and 
I" — the Mississippi — down at New Orleans. 

Paley. I see. 

West. Yes, but I'm puzzled. 

Paley. Why ? 

West. Fred was as poor as I was. Why should they take 
him for a son-in-law any more than me? 

Paley. Can't say ; but they did ; and, what's more, they took 
him right in — into the family. They fitted up these superb 
apartments for the young couple, and Fred has everything he 
wants. 



8 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

West. Then all this is — {LooTcing around.) 

Paiky. {MeeMy.) Papa's; everything papa's.- {Observing 
cigar in West's 7iand, he raises West's hand to within afoot of 
his nose, holds it off again, then to West.) Oat of that box ? 

West. Yes. 

Paley. Papa's. (West crosses to fireplace and throws cigar 
away.) 

West. I see. Poor Fred ; my poor cousin ! 

Paley. Poor cousin ? 

West. I said "poor cousin!" It's as clear as day to me. Mr. 
John Delmer was not in society. Here was a chance. Dr. 
Fred Van Arnem liad position : all Delmer's money couldn't 
buy it for him, nor all Fred's poverty take it from Jiim. 

Paley. But no blame to Fred ; Esther is the sweetest — 

West. Don't say a word ; if she's anything like Margaret, 
I haven't a reproach for Fred. 

Paley. Still, I'm afraid he finds there's too much papa-in- 
law and mamma-in-law mixed in his matrimonial cup. 

West. Very likely. 

Paley. Things are not as they should be. 

West. They are not ! Then I consider it my sacred duty 
to help to make them so. 

Paley. What do you mean ? 

West. Fred is too good-natured, undoubtedly — always was, 
I must help him out. 

Margaeet. ( Without r. 1 e.) Ehoda ! 

West. The voice of Margaret ! 

Marg. Ehoda ! 

West. Rhoda ! Another. I thought there were only two. 

Paley. Rhoda is a friend of theirs just from the South — 
{enthusiastically clasping his hinds) — and she is simply — 

West. Hello! Hello! (Paley checks himself.) Is she 
rich? 

Paley. No ; poor, but there's no harm in loving her. 

West. Oh ! go in and win. I haven't come back from the 
West as poor as I was, and I've a place for you, Paley, that will 
make you independent. 

Marg. {Outside.) Where are you, Rhoda ? 

Paley. She's coming in here. 

West. I can't meet Margaret y — yet. Get your hat and 
join me outside. 

Exit Paley r. 3 e. West goes up to door l. 3 e. 

West. Ah ! you impulsive boys ! I'm glad I'm here to look 
after you — Margaret. {Exit L. 2 E.) 

Enter R. 1 E. Margaret. Rhoda appears at door R. 1 E. 

Marg. Come in, Rhoda. (Rhoda enters and approaches 
Margaret.) I'm going to order the sleigh. I love to drive 
when it's snowing. It's glorious. 

Rhoda. Well, I'll be ready. Here is Dr. West's letter. I've 
read it all through. {Taking a letter tied with ribbon from her 



jOHisr delmee's daughters. 9 

'pocket and giving it toher.) What an adventure you did have 
down there on the Mississippi ! 

Marg. You mean in the Mississippi, Rhoda. 

RnoDA. {Laxtgldng.) Well, from what you have told me, 
tlie letter is worthy of the man. He's afraid of nothing. 

Marg. Indeed he isn't. I told him we must never meet 
again, and he coolly wrote tliat he'd be here some time this 
month. 

Ehoda. Well, your first meeting had been under such 
peculiar circumstances. 

Marg. Yes, under a steamboat. But this: (Beads.) "I 
shall call upon you some time in December, 1883." He would 
actually wait three years ! " Should any one else meantime 
claim your hand, and you wish to iestoio it — " underlined — 
"pray do not let mb stand intJie way." Did you ever hear 
such impertinence ? 

Rhoda. {Archly.) I wonder you didn't instantly burn the 
letter. 

Marg. {Speaking causelessly , but tying the letter up with g7'eat 
care.) I meant to, and I mean to still — 

Rhoda. You've been meaning to for the past three years, 
and you'll mean to for three years more. {Taking Margaret's 
hands and looking into her face steadily. Margaret with a half- 
deprecating laugh turns away and puts the letter in her pocket.) 
Yes, dear. ( Watching Margaret's actions) It was very imper- 
tinent in him. 

Marg. (Thoughtfully, half to herself.) Oh! if he didn't 
think that my father and mother were — vulgar ! Do you know, 
Rhoda, I sometimes fear they were wrong to give Esther and 
me an education better than their own. Dear little Esther ! — 
no, she sees nothing different in them. Until I met him, I 
never saw so plainly. (Forced gayety.) However, I shall 
never set eyes on him again ! 

Rhoda. December is not gone yet. 

Marg. Oh ! he's repented long ago of his — I suppose 
he'd call it love. 

Rhoda. What do you call it ? 

Ma«6. a passing fancy. 

Rhoda. I don't believe it. 

Marg. Then why hasn't he written me since? 

Rhoda. He says in the letter you shall not hear from him, 
until he comes to claim you. 

Marg. Would he treat the matter so lightly if I were not 
the daughter of people whom he — despises ? If he didn't in 
some measure look down upon me, as he does upon my 
parents, could he treat love so lightly? 

Rhoda. Margaret, I've read the letter, and I believe in the 
man. There's some purpose in his eccentric behavior. 

Marg. Well, I hope he'll not come. 

Rhoda. You hope so ? 

Marg. Oh ! I confess that my father and mother treated 



10 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

liim — cruelly ; but, Rhoda, you don't know wliat passed between 
liim and me afterward. He is so proud. 

Ehoda. {Arm around her.) I think I know a pride that 
equals bis. 

Marg. {Thouglitfully.) He said mine was greater. {Lead- 
ing Jier to a cliair R. c, and bending over her.) 

Rhoda. I wish I could help you. You and Esther have 
been so kind to me, ever since we first met at school. 

Marg. That reminds me. Do you remember what we 
said when we were leaving our old school ? 

Rhoda, The vows we made ? Yes. 

Marg. Of love. 

Rhoda. Of gratitude. {Kissing both of Margaret's hands 
as she holds them.) 

Marg. We promised to stand by each other. 

Rhoda. Yes. 

Marg. That means that you must lei us stand by you. 
Your dear father's death has left you poor. You must make 
your home here with us. I'm sure that, if you were to become 
rich and we were to become poor — 

Rhoda. {Nervoiisly.) No, Margaret, no — 

Marg. Fortunes are lost every day. 

Rhoda. {Anxiously.) But you are all safe ; nothing can 
happen to you. 

Marg. Well, I hope not, Rhoda; but if anything were to 
happen, and you could help us — 

Rhoda. I would do anything you ask, to repay such love as 
yours. 

Marg. Anything ? 

Rhoda. Yes. 

Marg. Then you must not go back to New Orleans ; you 
must stay with us. 

Enter Mrs. Delmer, l. 2 e. 

Mrs. D. Why, Margie, I thought you'd gone to order the 
sleigh. 

Marg. {Grossing to door R. I.e.) Right away, mother. 

Mrs. D. Order the new one. 

Marg. No, the other. 

Mrs. D. The new one is larger, and the neighbors haven't 
seen it yet. 

Marg. The old one is cosier. 

Mrs. D. But there's nothing like our new sleigh in the 
■whole neighborhood. 

Marg. No, mother, I don't think there is. 

Mrs. D. I had it made myself, Rhoda. It cost seven hun- 
dred dollars, and still Margie doesn't like it. 

Maeg. It will attract so much attention. 

Mrs. D. That's what I got it for. I will not let people 
think we're poor. Wealth is nothing to be ashamed of. I 
want to let people see what we are. 



JOHN DELMER'S daughters. 11 

Marg. But father is going to excliange tlie sleigli. 

Mrs. D. That's the way with everything I buy. Not two 
weeks ago I bought a lovely dress for Esther — three hundred 
and fifty dollars — and her husband wouldn't let her wear it, 
except in the house, and complained even then. Beautiful ! — 
crimson and yellow. 

Marg, If Esther wore it in the street, people would 
think — 

Mrs. D. We've money enough, not to care what people 
think. 

Marg-. Never enough for that. Don't you remember, 
mother, what the papers said ? 

Mrs. D. About my dress at the Charity Ball a fortnight 
ago ? But did it make us any poorer ? 

Marg. {Arm around her mother's roaist) Ah ! but I 
don't want such things said about my mother. Now (coaxing), 
sha'n't we use the old sleigli ? 

Mrs. D. Yes, yes — and instead of the black fox robes, put 
in common yellow blankets, and get your father to exchange 
the horses for mules. Will that suit you? 

Marg. No, mother. Our own two handsome horses and 
the old sleigh. {Goi'ig.) I'll not be long, Rhoda. We'll have 
a glorious ride. {Exitu. 1 E., laughing.) 

Khoda. {Turning to Mrs. Delmer, and speaJcing in low, hur- 
ried tones) Mrs. Delmer ! 

Mrs. D. What's the matter, child? 

Rhoda. {Hesitating and embarrassed.) I — I must tell you 
something. I cannot keep it to myself — 

Mrs. D. Tell me, dear, certainly. 

Rhoda. Oh ! how I have suffered since I came to this house \ 

Mrs. D. You? 

Rhoda. Where I've found nothing but kindness, 

Mrs. D. My child ! 

Rhoda. Margaret only just now begging me to make this 
my home always ! If you knew the danger ! 

Mrs. D. Danger ! 

Rhoda. The great trouble that is likely to come to you 
all — through me. 

Mrs. D. {Aghast.) Rhoda ! Wha — what do you mean ? 

Rhoda. I — I'll tell you. You know about your husband's 
affairs in New Orleans ? 

Mrs. D. Yes. 

Rhoda. He had a partner — Mr. Richard Varry. 

Mrs. D. Richard Varry ! {In alarm,.) 

Rhoda. You know what I am going, to say. Yes, my 
father told me everj'thing. In 1857 Mr. Varry left New Or- 
leans for the North. 

Mrs. D. Well. 

Rhoda. As you know, the next vessel from New York 
brought the news of his death. 

Mrs. D. Yes. 



12 JOHK delmer's daughters. 

Rhoda, Afterward Mr. Delmer lost liis own property by 
speculation ; but then, using Mr. Varry's, made enormous 
profits. 

Mrs. D. He— lie did. 

Rhoda. But all these profits really belong to Mr. Varry's 
estate, and would go to his heirs, if they could be found. 

Mrs. D. There are none. 

Rhoda. If I could be sure of that ! 

Mrs. D. Mr. Delmer searched and found — 

Rhoda. Not even a clue ? 

Mrs. D. No — Richard Varry was the last of the family. 

Rhoda. You believe so ; listen. Mr. Varry, though a soli- 
tary man, was very fond of my father. 

Mrs. D. I remember. 

Rhoda. The night before he sailed he placed in my father's 
keeping certain valuable documents. Forgive my speaking of 
it, but what can I do ? My father was never satisfied with the 
search Mr. Delmer made for the heirs, and he intrusted to me a 
packet — 

Mrs. D. a packet? 

Rhoda. Containing Mr. Varry's partnership papers, charg- 
ing me, if it were ever possible, to give them to their right- 
ful owners. 

Mrs. D. Wh — what ! No ! no ! impossible ! True, we lost 
everything. What we have now belongs, by rights, to other 
people. But where are these people ? It was twenty-five years 
ago. 

Rhoda. And yet that packet ! It may, at any moment, 
bring ruin to your home. 

Mrs. D. No, Rhoda, no. 

Rhoda. Were there not relatives living here in New York ? 

Mrs. D. There were people of that name, as there are now — 
bat— 

Rhoda. I'm sure my father had some good reason for doing 
what he did. 

Mrs. D. Ah ! 

Rhoda. Just before he died he called my attention to what 
he had written upon the cover of the packet. 

Mrs. D. Yes. 

Rhoda. It was this : " To the heir or heirs of Richard Varry, 
formerly ofNeio York, late of Neio Orleans ; died at sea in the 
harh Mercury, some time in October, 1857. If ever the oppor- 
tunity occurs, my child, do not fail to deliver this, by all your love 
for me." 

Mrs. D. Could he have known any — ? 

Rhoda. Again, just before the last, he drew me down to 
him and whispered, "Remember — Richard Varry — " then 
kissed me. 

Mrs. D. Strange ! 

Rhoda, Ever since then I've been in constant dread. 

Mrs. D. Dread ? 



JOHN" delmer's daughters. 13 

Ehoda. Lest I sliould meet somewliere — aomeliow, those to 
wliom the packet is addressed — to whom Richard Varry's money 
would then belong. 

Mrs. D. {In fear.) That must never happen! My poor 
child, I wouldn't think about it any more. It's all passed and 
gone. It will never trouble you, nor my two that you love so 
much. You've said nothing to Margaret of — 

Ehoda. {In a half -frightened tone of surprise.) N^ — n — no ! 

Mrs. D. If she thought her father had done anything 
which people could take exception to — you know how she wor- 
ships him — she'd not spend another happy hour. 

Rhoda. She must never know. 

Mrs. D. There ! cheer up. Your ride will do you good. 
Sh — sh, some one's coming. 

Enter Dr. Fred Van Arnem, r. 1 e. 

Mrs. D. Ah ! Fred. 

Fred. {Opening door and calling outside.) Yes, they are 
liere. {Listens.) All right. {To Rhoda.) Miss Manly, I'm 
sorry to drive you from my territory, but Margaret says you 
must get ready. 

During this Paley Jtas entered R. 3 e., hat in hand, and 
is about to cross to l. 2 e, , hut at sight of Fred sto^js and 
looks wistfully at door l. 3 e. , then at Fred. 

Mrs. D. She's coming, Fred. {To Rhoda.) Take Esther 
with you. 

Rhoda. You'll not be angry, Dr. Van Arnem, at being 
robbed of Esther ? 

Fred. Oh, no. 

Paley. {Aside.) Oh, certainly not \ Used to it. 

Rhoda. You're not jealous of my love for Esther ? 

Paley. {Aside.) Her love for Esther. Oh, how I wish I 
were Esther I 

Fred. My little Esther % Why, no ; her heart is large 
enough for us all. She has my permission to go with you. 

Exeunt Mrs. Delmer and Rhoda, r. 1 e. 

Paley. {Aside^ Much, she'll wait for your permission after 
mamma's. 

Fred. What do you say, Paley ? 

Paley. {Coming down c.) I was remarking to myself upon 
the condition of the atmosphere — {Aside. ) in-doors. 

Fred. {Sitting at table R. c.) Yes, it's quite cold. 

Paley. {Glancing at door by which West went out.) It will 
he warmer after a while. 

Fred. ( Takes cigar-box up, glances a moment at cigars, and 
pushes the box away from him, then turns <o Paley.) Paley, old 
boy, toss me my cigar-case, will you ? In the pocket of my 
dressing-gown. (Paley very nervously obeys. Fred takes up 
and begins opening letters on table. Paley oti other side of table. 



14 JOHN" delmer's daughteks. 

next the fire, strikes a match, hut as he holds it for Feed to light 
his cigar, his hand shakes) Large mail this afternoon. Why, 
Paley, how your hand shakes ! 

Paley. Large mail? Yes. {Glancing at door, then icith 
sly look at Fred.) We've had the biggest ')nale here this after- 
noon you've seen in a long time. 

Fred. What the dickens is the matter with you, Paley ? 

Paley, 'M bubbling ! 'm bubbling all over with joy. (Fred 
looks at him in surprise. He quietly returns the glance and 
points to letters.) Over your prospects. Cords of letters there 
from college. 

Fred. About my nomination. {Hamng opened a letter) 

Paley. To the professorship. Ye — e — e — s. 

Fred. What will West say ? Dear old boy ! Long time 
since I've heard from him. Ah ! there'll soon be a surprise 
here. 

Paley. I think there will. 

Fred. {Handing a letter.) Read that, Paley. {Thoughtful- 
ly and half aside.) 1 think 1 shall be elected ; I've worked so 
hard. If this chance fails. {Sighs, and strikes knee with hand.) 
Oh ! Paley, what is worse than a poor man ? 

Paley. {Without raising his eyes from the letter he is read- 
ing, answers quickly.) Poor son-in-law ! (Fred looks up quick- 
ly at him, but he appears not to notice, and continues reading.) 

Fred. {Having opened several letters) Ah ! these are from 
some of my charity patients. {Reads.) " Heartitst thanks for 
wonderful cure. Impossible to offer a fee to so rich a man." Of 
course. {Another letter.) Here, ditto — but with a sofa pillow. 
Where is it ? 

Paley. Here. {PMaWZ hands it. Their eyes meet, then drop 
upon the pilloio.) 

Fred. This makes how many ? 

Paley. Seventeen. 

Fred. {Sighing.) If the worst comes, we can set up a shop, 
for sofa-cushions and slippers. {Opening another letter, reads.) 
" Should he glad to have you for my family physician." Who 
is so civil ? {Turns page) " Ihe poor father of a family. " 

Paley. (Standing near cdcove, throws the cushion down an- 
grily.) Oh, when Dr. West knows all this ! 

Fred. What's that about West ? 

Paley. Oh, I was remarking to myself that we're going to 
have a storm from that quarter. {Laughs) 

Fred. What's the matter? (Paley continues laughing. 
Fred rises to go to him.) Paley, what in the world are you 
laughing at? (Paley laughs all the more loudly. Heis facing 
L. 3. E., and as he raises his head from a fit of laughter, enter 
Mr. Delmer l. 3 e., so as to confront him. Paley suddenly 
checks his mirth, and stares at Delmer, wJio watches him sternly. 
Pause. Fred resumes seat) 

Delmer. You seem amused. 

Paley. I am. 



JOHN" delmer's daughters. 15 

Delmek. At what ? 

Paley. At present, sir, I am not at liberty to state. 'Tis 
within my bosom locked, and I have lost the key. {LooTcing 
slyly across at Fred, and pointedly.) " Oh I Young Lochinvar 
is come out of the West," etc. (Exit L. 3 E., singing.) 

Delmer. {Grossing to fire.) Fred, that fellow is a nuisance. 

Fred. Why, Mr. Delmer, I couldn't do without Paley in the 
laboratory. He's a brother to me, — the son of an old friend of 
our family. When his parents died, my cousin and I took 
charge of him. He'd go through fire and water for either of 
us. 

Delmer. Well, of course, if you feel that way about it, it's 
all right. {Seats himself before the fire and rubs his hands, 
witli the air of one using his own apartment.) Quite a cold ride 
up from New York. You didn't go down to-day. 

Fred. No. 

Delmer. Should 'a' been in Wall Street. Northern Pacific 
four points at a jump. My work ! {Proudly.) What d'ye say 
to that ? 

Fred. {Carelessly, half abstractedly.) Ah! 

Delmer. Ah ? Yes, to be sure ; you're lucky enough not to 
have to make money. 

Fred. {Aside.) Lucky ! 

Delmer. {Taking out newspaper.) Then my other little 
scheme I Ah-li-h ! {Self-satisfied air.) Here's an article of 
mine upon it. {Beads.) "Vancouver and Portland Railroad 
— best investment for small savings — sudden rise — great future." 
Perceive ? 

Fred. Vancouver and Portland^? Where does the road 
run ? 

Delmer. Northern part of Oregon. But it is not built yet. 
{Slyly chuckling to himself as he folds the paper.) 

Fred. The road doesn't exist? 

Delmer. Only on my books — it's projected. It only cost me 
$40,000 ; but I've already got that back on the stock that's sold, 
I shall make double the sum. It's only a little branch road 
a few miles long. I doubt if it's ever put through. 

Fred. Yet you lend your name — 

Delmer. My name ? Certainly not. I'm not known in the 
affair. 

Fred. (Grossing to chair L. c.) And this you call business. 

Delmer. {Moving around to chair R. c. , in which he seats 
himself.) My dear Doctor, you shouldn't sneer at business. See 
here ! Do you know why you are proposed for that vacant pro- 
fessorship at your University 1 

Fred. I suppose they think me competent for the position. 

Delmer. Not a bit of it. 

Fred. No ? 

Delmer. It's because you are my son-in-law. 

Fred. Indeed 1 

Delmer. Indeed 1 Can there be a doubt of it ? 



16 JOH]Sr DELMBR'S DAUGHTERS. 

Feed. I liad hoped so. 

Delmer. Then don't deceive yourself any longer. The Board 
of Trustees, with their blue blood, and their " first families of 
the city," may not receive me, but they can't reject my money. 
You are the son-in-law of Delmer, the hanker ; he's worth 
money ; that's the family to select from. Your best qualifica- 
tions, my dear boy, lie in my cash-box. 

Feed. {Starting up.) Mr. Delmer ! 

Delmer. You don't know New York as I do. Money, money, 
money, my boy, and money I've made in my business. {Point- 
edly.) Don't sneer at business, Doctor. 

Fred. {Aside ) — The father of my Esther ! 

Delmer. Now I've made up my mind that you shall have 
the place. It will do honor to the family. And I'm not going 
to have you fail, because you're so blind as not to see it's 
money alone'll get you through. I place at your disposal 
$5,000 ; if that ain't enough, ten, fifteen. If money makes the 
mare go, by thunder ! we'll set the whole stable galloping. 
What's your personal income? 

Fred. About $2,000. 

Delmer. See ? Why you can't even live on that ? Did I 
ever grudge you a cent ? 

Fred. No. {Disturbed.) 

Delmer. Have I been generous or not ? 

Fred. Mr. Delmer, I'll speak plainly. I can't stand this. 

Delmer. Stand what? 

Fred. I feel like a trespasser on your bounty. 

Delmer. Now cut tbat, Fred. Ain't you one of us? Ain't 
you Esther's husband ? 

Fred. Esther's husband ! {Aside.) — That's all I am. 

Delmer. This money I allow you — 

Fred. I shall not use. 

Delmer. Then what do you build your hopes on ? 

Fred. My pen — and my brain. If they fail, I'm not fit for 
the position ; if it can be bought, I wouldn't have it. 

Enter Mrs. Delmer r. 1 e. SJie is about to speak to 
Fred, wAo has gone opposite L. 2 e., ichen W'e.&t: enters 
L. 3 E. and confronts him. 

What ! Leonard ! Leonard ! {Bushes to hinn, catches both of his 
hands and shakes them heartily. Enter Paley l. 2 e. He goes 
down L. Delmer andMRS. Delmer have joined each other at 
fire, and watch the following scene in surprise.) Dear old boy ! 
is it you at last ? I can't believe my eyes. 

West. {Arm over Fred's shoulder.) Paley had the same 
trouble. It seems there's a general want of confidence in the 
eyesight here. 

Fred. (Tk? Paley.) You rascal. l^/«s is the surprise. I see. 

Paley. {Aside.) Wait till Dr. West opens on you. 

Fred. What do you say ? 



JOHN" delmer's daughtees. 17 

Palet. Oh, I was only remarking to myself upon the un- 
certainty of human calculations. 

West. I don't wonder you mistrust your eyesight. {To 
Fred.) We see more clearly in the West. {Grossing, hows to 
Mr. and Mrs. Delmek.) 

Delmek. Must have met you somewhere, no doubt, but just 
at this moment — 

West. I'll assist your memory, sir. 

Paley. {Having watched West's movements.) The fun is 
about to begin. Cool enough ; but I think, on the whole, I 
prefer the icy air of winter. {Exit L., with look of fear at people 
on stage.) 

West. One beautiful September morning, three years ago, 
your daughter attempted to board the New Orleans steamer at 
St. Louis. The gang-plank slipped ; she fell into the water, 
and I — 

Mrs. D. {Having meanwhile recognized him, draws herself up. ) 
The sleigh will be waiting for us, Joseph. 

Delmer. {Repeating.) Waiting for us. {Slight bow, and 
move as if to go.) 

West. You remember the trifle, I see. 

Mrs. D. I remember that you had the impudence after- 
ward to ask for her hand. 

Delmer. {Always taking the cue from his wife.) Her — 
hand. 

West. Which you refused me. 

Mrs. D. Very rightly. 

Delmer. Yes, sir, very rightly. 

West. Still, after my experience, I am rather surprised at 
finding Dr. Van Arnem established here. 

[Mrs. D. and Delmer sliow anger.'] 

Enter Margaret r. 3 e. She has cloak over her arm. At 
sight of West she stops in amazement and withdraws into 
alcove of window, unseen iy all. She pulls one curtain 
partly around, her, and listens breathlessly. 

West. Oh ! I say nothing against so excellent a selection 
for your younger daughter. On the contrary, I think your 
connection with Dr. Van Arnem reflects the greatest credit on 
the Delmer family. 

Mrs. D. To hear such things in one's own house ! 

Delmer. Yes — own — house. 

West. I thought I was calling on Dr. Van Arnem. 

Mrs. D. Then we'll leave Dr. Van Arnem to receive your 
call. 

Delmer. Your — call. 

Mrs. D. Your arm, John. 

Delmer. Arm, my dear. {He gives his arm, and they exeunt 
R. 1 E.) 

Margaret seems anxious to escape, hut finding that im- 
possible, draws the curtain entirely about her. This 



18 JOH]sr delmer's daughters. 

action must he marked, as she is an unwilling listener to 
loliat follows. 
Fred. So it's you, after all, that saved Margaret's life? 
West. Yes. Her father majestically offered me $1000. I 
put out my hand for a certain greater treasure — the treasure I 
had saved to him — but he majestically declined to give it. 
Fred. You are very plain-spoken with them. 
West. It's the only way they can understand I'm indepen- 
dent. This parvenu cares for nothing but money. 

Margaret is seen to sink upon the seat in alcove, still 
hidden hy curtain. 

Fred. I hope you'll succeed. 

West. Oh! they may still oppose me, but they shan't look 
down on me as they do on you. 

Fred. On me ? 

West. {Aside.) Now to try him. — I could have told you, 
you were not the sort of man to marry for money. 

Fred. {Angrily.) You ought to know me better, Leonard. 

West. {Aside.) He's all right. — Then you love your wife. 

Fred. Of course I do. 

West. And she loves you ? 

Fred, {Tenderly.) Yes. 

West. {Aside.) ;S%e's all right. {Carelessly.) — How long do 
you think it will last ? (Fred looks at him in amazement and 
anger.) I've already had a talk with Paley, and I'm going 
straight at this business. Come, Fred, let's look the difficulty 
square in the face. Your wife's love, your honor, as a member 
of our family, depend upon — 

Fred. What ? 

West. Your leaving this house. Your wife is a child now, 
but sooner or later she'll realize your position, when she must 
lose her respect for you, and tlien — her love. 

Fred. What shall I do ? 

West. Break with these people, and make, for Esther, a 
home of your own. 

Fred. Home ! 

West. Free yourself at any cost. Our family are Knick- 
erbockers, Fred. Let these — people see wliat that means. 

Fred. If it were not for Esther's mother — 

West. It is herself and her husband you must consider 
now. 

(Margaret having come from hehind the curtain and 
come gradually down c. utters a faint cry, and they 
turn.) 

Margaret ! 

(Fred, looking first at West tlien at Margaret, goes 
up and off n. 3 e.) 

Marg. I have most unwillingly overheard. 

West. But you know that — I — 



JOHN delmer's daughters. 19 

Marg. Cannot unsay what you've said. 

West. Don't misunderstand me again. 

Marg. You have left little chance of that. 

West. Tou should not have heard. 

Marg. It was most unfortunate, but it revealed that there 
had been no change in your feelings towards my parents. 

West. Hear me. 

Marg. It is plain, there is — there can be nothing in 
common between ics. 

West. Love ? 

Marg. No. 

West. Tliis is not the greeting I've looked forward to. 

Marg. You know why we parted three years ago. You 
still look down upon my parents. 

West. But not upon g/tui, Margaret. 

Marg. Speak of us together, Dr. West ; they do not move 
\nyour circle, but they are my parents ; I am their child ; they 
may be unrefined, hut they are my father and mother. In 
teacliing Dr. Van Arnem his duty, your taught me mine. 

West. Margaret, I do not blame you for defending your 
parents. I love you all the more for it. It is because of my 
love, that I do not deceive you, that I neither speak nor imply 
a falsehood, nor pretend a higher regard for your parents than 
I really have. 

Enter Fred r. 3 e. 

Fred. I've found Esther ; she'll be here immediately. 

Marg. Gentlemen, I bid you p^ood-morning. {Exit R. 1 E.) 

Fred. Ah! What's the matter ! Aren't things going well ? 

West. No, they're not. And, old fellow, pardon me, if I 
must get some air before I see your little wife. {Exit L. 3 E. 
abruptly.) 

Fred. Poor fellow. It doesn't run smooth. 
Esther appears at doorway R. 3 e. 

Esther. Come in ? 

Fred. Yes, Esther. 

Esther. {Coming doion.) I thought Dr. West was here. 

Fred. Yes, lie was, but — 

Esther. Didn't he want to see me ? 

Fred. Yes, pet, he's very anxious to see you. 

Esther. {Looking out of door L. 2 e.). Takes a funny 
way of showing it, doesn't he? 

Fred. He's disturbed about something Margaret said to 
him. It seems they are old lovers. 

Esther. And had a quarrel already ? It's always the way. 
Lovers without quarrels wouldn't be lovers I wish I had a 
necklace, with a pearl for every tear our quarrels cost me. 

Fred. Would the necklace be a large one, Esther? 

Esther. Oh ! very. 

Fred. {Sadly.) I'm sorry. 

Esther. How serious you are 1 



20 JOHis' delmer's daughteks. 

Fred. Esther, listen to what I'm going to tell you. 

Esther. If you're not too long. I must go to mamma im- 
mediately. 

Fred. Forever mamma ! 

Esther. {SJiaking her head warningly.) See here, Fred. 
I've noticed, for a long time, that you have something against 
mamma. You are unkind, and mind her wishes so unwillingly, 
any one can see it in your eyes. I shall really be cross with 
you, dear, if you are not more attentive to her. {Suddenly and 
in quite a different tone.) And that reminds me. We are to 
have a ball here in two weeks. How do you like your little 
wife best V With curls or braids 1 

Fred. What sort of curls ? {Sleigh-'bells heard in the dis- 
tance.) 

Esther. From the hairdresser's, of course. What an ab- 
surd question ! 

Fred. But you have such beautiful thick hair yourself. 

Esther. Now, tell me. 

Fred. Well, wear a simple white dress with a rose in 
your own hair. 

Esther. {Drawing a long face.) Oh, dear ! 

Fred. That's what you wore after we were married. 

Esther. At the seaside — yes ; but here !^-mamma would 
never consent. 

Fred. Why ask her ? , 

Esther. What ! 

Fred. {Leading her to sofa.) Come sit down by me. {Sleigh- 
tells heard l. more distinct, as though sleigh were driving up to 
door.) 

Esther. {Running up to alcove and looking out) There's 
the sleigh ! I must go ! 

Fred. When / ask you to stay ? 

Esther. {Seating herself heside him.) What is it, then ? 

Fred. {Arm around her.) I wish this room were our 
house. 

Esther. Ah ! ( Wondering greatly. ) 

Fred. I don't mean literally. But imagine a little house 
quite by itself — only for a husband and wife. 

Esther. {Thoughtfully.) For husband and wife. 

Fred. Four pretty rooms. 

Esther. Let's see — parlor, anteroom, small reception-room, 
study — there are four already, and where should we eat and 
sleep and — live ? 

Fred. I can arrange them better than that. A workroom 
for the husband, just out of the wife's room — 

Esther. Close by. {Assenting pleasantly.) 

Fred. Not large, but very cosy. You need only open the 
door, and they are together. 

Esther. That would do. 

Fred. A small parlor — 

Esther. Not too small, and furnished with Persian carpets. 



JOHN" delmek's daughteks. 21 

Fred. If they can afford them. Then a pleasant sleeping- 
room, overlooking a garden, with the green elms close to the 
window. 

Esther. Charming ! Who told you about it ? 

Fred. Whatif I were painting from life? What if I had the 
cosy little house at my disposal ? 

Esther. You ? 

Fred. What if I said, " Come, Esther, let us move to our 
own home, where you will be mistress indeed." You'd go with 
me, pet, wouldn't you ? 

Esther. You are joking. 

Fred. No, I'm in earnest. Will you go with your hus- 
band? 

Esther. Away from mamma ? 

Fred. To our own home. 

Esther. Haven't we everything here ? 

Fred. Too much, yet not enough. As a married woman 
you have lived in your father's house, just as you did when a 
young girl. Neither your rights nor duties are any larger. It 
ought not to be so. My means are not great, but I must pro- 
vide you your own house, so that you may be the mistress 
of it. 

Esther. And go wearing a kitchen apron and blazing 
cheeks ! 

Fred." When necessary. Good housewives are always ready 
for an emergency. As for me, I can no longer endure the life 
we lead here. 

Esther. You are my husband here. 

Fred. Esther, the man who wins a woman for his wife 
should take her to himself and be able to say, "She is mine 
— all mine — wholly mine." Rich or poor, high or low, it makes 
no difference. Darling, I can take yon to my home, the poor 
home of a young physician. It is small and simple, but it can 
make us very happy. Do you hesitate ? 

Esther. Mamma and papa ! 

Fred. They have given you to me. I have undertaken to 
care for your happiness. 

Esther. But, Fred— 

Fred. Listen to me, little wife ; you don't know what is at 
stake. 

Enter Mrs. Delmer r. 1 e., dressed for riding. 

Mrs. D. (As she crosses to windoic.) Well, dear, are you 
ready ? 

Fred. I want Esther to stay in with me this afternoon. 

Mrs, D. Indeed ! 

Fred. To meet my cousin. 

Mrs. D. What ! 

Fred. He is the only relative I have in the world, Mrs. 
Delmer. 

Mrs. D. I'm sorry, Fred, but (looking fixedly at Esther) 
Esther is coming with us. 



22 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

Feed. {Aside to her, tenderly.) You will not go? 

Esther. You — lieard — mamma, 

Fred. But I ask you to stay. 

Esther. She will be angry. 

Fred. Remember wliat I've said. This shall decide. {Enter 
West l. 3 e. , followed by PaIjEY.) Ah ! Leonard, let me present 
you to my wife. 

VS'"est. {Grossing and talcing 7ier Jiand) Delighted to meet 
you — my cousin, 

Mrs. D. {Having moved to door l.) Come, Esther, the others 
■will join us at the sleigh. {Exit L. 3 E.) 

Esther is going, when Fred lays his hand upon her arm 
and looks at her reproachftdly . 

Esther. You'll worry me to death. Please don't say 
another word. 

Fred. {Thrusting her from, him) Go, then^go ! 

Esther. {Pouting.) You're perfectly horrid. This is too 
much ! '{Crosses l. 2 E.) 

Enter Rhoda r. 1 e., dressed for riding. Paley having 
crossed r., meets her and assists her iMth her cloalc. 

Paley. There's a beautiful rosebud in the conservatory. 
Mrs. Delmer has given it to me. Will you wear it, if I get it 
for you ? 

Rhoda. With pleasure. 

Paley. I'll bring it. {Goes up and out R. 3 e.) 

WEST/ias moved to R. c, toMch brings them face to face. 
Fred has come down c. 

Fred. Ahi ! Miss Manley — my cousin, Dr. West. {They 
hoio.) 

Rhoda, Your cousin ? {Crosses to c.) 

West. Yes, own cousin — indeed we bear the same family 
name — Varry. 

Rhoda. {Starts and looks alternately at West and Fred.) 

Enter Margaret r. 1 e., also dressed for riding. As 
she enters, Rhoda moves back, vyith her eyes fixed upon 
the two men, until she meets Esther up l. c. 

Rhoda. {Aside in a lohisper) Varry ! 
West. Margaret ! 

Margaret coming face to face loith West, stops a second, 
looks him in the eye steadily, then drawing herself up 
crosses him to c. West, as she crosses, speaks again. 

West. Tell me. Have you given your heart to another ? 

Marg. And if I have — 

West. If you have, then I shall, in honor, withdraw. If 
not — 

Marg. Well ? 



joHi^ delmee's daughters. 33 

West. Well, I shall wait — 

Marg. For what ? 

West. Till you are reasonable. Till you get to liking me. 

Marg. It will be a long waiting. 

West. How long? 

Makg. Forever. 

West. That is long — too long. 

Marg. Nothing shall change me. 

West. You are mistaken, /shall find the means. 

Margaret crossing to l. c, meets Rhoda and exchanges 
a word. Esther joins her husband in the alcove as if 
to bid him, good-by. Margaret crosses on to l. 2 e., 
and Rhoda comes down to West r. c. 

Fred. Once more I ask you not to go. 

Esther. Fred, I — no ! not mind mamma? It's madness. 
Good-by, pet. 
Mrs. D. {Without.) Esther! 
Esther. (After a quick look at Fn^D.) I'm coming. 

(Bxit L. 2 E.) 

Fred. {Looking half angrily, half sadly in the direction she 
went 0ut.) And I'm going. 

Enter Paley r. 3 'e., rosebud in his hand. He crosses and, 
stands by door L. 2 E., waiting for Rhoda. 

Rhoda. Dr. West, the — Varry — in your name and your 
cousin's excites my curiosity. 

West. You have met some Varrys, perhaps. 

Rhoda. I am greatly interested in some people of that 
name. 

West. They are no kin to us. Fred and I are tLe last of 
our family. 

Rhoda. You have no relatives of that name ? 

West. None. We had an uncle. 

Rhoda. Yes — 

West. Poor fellow ! he died at sea in October, '57. 

Rhoda. And his name — 

West. Richard Varry. 

Rhoda. Richard Varry your uncle ? 

Marg. Rhoda ! 

Rhoda. {Startledby the sound of her voice). Yes, Margaret. 
( With a frightened look at West, from whom she does not take 
her eyes, she moves to mefi-t Margaret. When Margaret 7ias 
taken her outstretched hand, with a quick clutch at her hand with 
both her oion, her gaze still fixed upon West, she speaks in a 
fainter tone.) I'm ready ; let's go. 

While this action has been going on. West, having moved 

around the table to the fireplace, now leans against the 

__ mantelpiece loith folded arms and looks at Margaret , 



24 JOHN" delmee's daughtees. 

who, after a single Jialf-defiant look at Mm, is U7'ged off 
by Rhod^ . West with serious face watches Margaret, 
and Ehoda watches him in fear. Fred in the alcove 
watches the sleigh, with his foot on the seat, elbow on 
knee, chin resting on hand. Paley, who has offered the 
rosebud to Rhoda, has been passed by unheeded. He, still 
holding out the flower mechanically, looks after Rhoda. 
at a loss to understand, and hurt at her apparent dis- 
regard. 

Curtain. 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Conservatory, back and right being of glass curving up 
from 4 G, to front border. Doors l. 1 e. and l. 3 e. leading 
to house. Glass door r. 2 e. leading out ofduors. The in- 
terior is fitted up with plants, flowers, and rustic furniture, 
the girders supporting a great number of hanging baskets. The 
interior must be so arranged as not to hide the exterior, which 
represents a snoio landscape on a clear, cold night. Moon shin- 
ing, crust on the snoio, a.nd every tree standing out sharp and 
clear against the sky. A wing of the house, tcindows lighted, is 
seen l. tj. e. Ivy on the icalls and snoio on the ivy. Footlights 
are to be well down; the light to come from, above, as from moon. 
Light also seen through doors L. Dance music proceeds from 
house at curtain rise, and wherever available through the act. 
Enter Palet l. 3 e. He glances around hastily, then crosses 
to door R. 2 E. tchich he is about to tinlock, when Rhoda 
enters l. 1 e. , looking back as if expecting some one. See- 
ing Paley, she starts and sinks in chair l. c. 

Rhoda. Paley ! 

Paley. {Grossing and standing beside her.') Yes. 

Rhoda. {Looking up at him after a moment' s pause.) Well ? 

Paley. Well ? Yes, thank you ; quite so. 

Rhoda. {Impatiently) What do you want ? 

Paley. I thought you called me. 

Rhoda. I spoke your name — 

Paley. People generally do, when they call me. 

Rhoda. Because I was startled at finding you here. 

Paley. So was I at finding you ; but I'm glad you came. 

Rhoda. Why ? 

Paley. Because I want to speak to you. 

Rhoda. About what ? 

Paley. Yourself, 

Rhoda. Myself? 



JOHN" delmee's daughteks. 35 

Paley. Ever since Fred and Dr. West departed angrily 
from this lordly mansion, a week ago, you've acted strangely. 

Khoda. {Trying to appear unconcerned.) I? 

Paley. A vFeigbt seems to have been lifted off your heart. 
(Rhoda starts, and looks at Mm in amazement.) When you re- 
turned from that sleigh-ride and found both Dr. West and Dr. 
Van Arnem gone, you suddenly became as happy and light- 
hearted as a bird. 

Rhoda. {Rising in astonishment, and, for the instant,forget- 
ting herself) Paley, that is not true. 

Paley. I know it. 

Rhoda. Then why do you say it ? 

Paley. To let you contradict. You're a woman. Couldn't 
make you confess any other way. There is something troub- 
ling you. 

Rhoda. Did I say — 

Paley. Now, Miss Rhoda, don't begin in the usual female 
way. I've heard you say that you've only two friends in the 
world. 

Rhoda. Yes. 

Paley. Couldn't you increase the number ? Make it 
three. 

Rhoda. You are already my friend, I trust. 

Paley. No, I'm not your friend you trust, that's the trouble. 
Miss Rhoda, since you've been here you've treated me like a 
gentleman — I mean like a lady — well, you know what I'm try- 
ing to say. You don't treat me as most people do, and I feel — • 
(Rhoda glances up at kirn.) No matter how I feel. You're in 
trouble ; Zwant to help you, and I'm going to do it. Will you 
trust me ? 

Rhoda. Why, Paley, I — 

Paley. Will you trust me ? — yes or no ? (Rhoda looks up at 
Mm. He extends his hand. She takes it warmly.) That's right. 
I had to hurry you, because we shall soon be interrupted. 
[Moves to door r.) 

Rhoda. {Looking toicard door l. 1 e.) Yes, Esther's coming. 
She told me that I might meet her in the conservatory, to hear 
about the letter you were to bring from her husband. 

Paley. {Unlocking door R. 3 e.) And I expect a sleigh 
secretly at the park gate. 

Rhoda. {Crossing and speaking anxiously.) Who's coming? 

Paley. Miss Rhoda, I have noticed several stages of anxiety 
in you. When Dr. West suddenly appeared here a week ago 
and took Fred away, you reached the first stage ; you were 
merely anxious. Learning from me that I was packing Fred's 
effects for a permanent departure from this home of ease and com- 
fort, you became more anxious — second stage ! To-night, though 
there's a ball in full blast, you don't show yourself at all in the 
parlor, but hurry to meet Esther, the moment you heard I 
was to bring a letter from her absent lord and mas — no, not 
master yet. 



26 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

Rhoda. ( Very eagerly) The letter ! well ? 

Paley. Third and last stage — most anxious ! I'm stupid, I 
admit, but I can see that two and two mal^e four. The young 
ladies are troubled, and you are troubled too — that's one " two" ; 
your trouble has somethintj to do with Fred and Dr. West, my 
two; and these two "twos," as the sailors say, bring me "to 
the fore" {four). — What is on your mind 1 

Rhoda. What's Dr. Van Arnem been doing? 

Paley. Preparing a little home for himself and his little 
wife. He's taken a house just below here at Irvington, and 
were his wife with him, would be as happy as a king. At 
present, his frame of mind is not royal. 

Rhoda. Dr. West has made him do all this? 

Paley. Not entirely, but he advised it strongly. 

Rhoda. To take Esther away from her parents ! 

Paley. Um-m-m ! well — 

Rhoda. Then he is very bitter against them. 

Paley. Well, I don't think he adores them. 

Rhoda. He would do them harm, if it came into his power. 
Paley, I will trust you. 

Paley. Good ! 

Rhoda. You want to aid me. You shall. 

Paley. How ? 

Rhoda. This family's iu danger of being ruined. 

Paley. Ruined ? 

Rhoda. Dr. Van Arnem leaving Esther in this way, and 
Dr. West angry with Margaret ! 

Paley. Angry with her ? Not at all. 

Rhoda. Then why should he do as he's done ? 
• Paley. How ? 

Rhoda. Since he's been in New York, he's done everything 
he can to injure Mr. Delmer's business. 

Paley. What ! Who told you that ? 

Rhoda. Margaret. 

Paley. And who told her ? 

Rhoda. Her father. 

Paley. Her father's — mistaken. 

Rhoda. I thought you'd say that. Of course he is. 

Paley. Why ! Do you, does she believe it ? 

Rhoda. No, no ; I knew there must be some mistake. 

Paley. There's going to be a battle between Margaret and 
Dr. West, but he could never descend to anything like that. 

Rhoda. Oh ! how glad I am to hear you speak of him so ! 
I wanted to be assured that he was not unworthy of Margaret. 

Paley. But why do you — ? 

Rhoda. Because I want to save this family from ruin, and I 
want you to help me. 

Pai,ey. I will. 

Rhoda. I must deliver to Dr. West and Dr. Van Arnem a 
certain packet, which will show them that they are the real 
owners of all Mr. Delmer's property. 



JOHN" delmer's daughters. 27 

Paley. What ! 

Rhoda. I can't explain now. You'll soon know every- 
tliiuff. But the only way to save the Delmers is to reconcile 
Esther and her husband and bring Dr. West into the family. 

Paley. He's ready enough to come, if Margaret will accept 
him. 

Rhoda. You really believe he loves her? 

Paley. Well, if I know what love is ? And witMn a few 
days I've begun to think I do. 

Rhoda. Then he will love her just the same, if he is rich 
and she is poor ? 

Paley. All the more. j 

Rhoda. Now, I think that Margaret, in th.e bottom of liei* 
heart, loves him, though she doesn't know it. But she would 
never marrj^ him, in the world, if she were poor. I want you 
to help me make a match. 

Paley. {Meaningli/.) With pleasure. 

Rhoda. Between Margaret and Dr. West. — You promise? 

Paley. Solemnly. 

Rhoda. Give me your liand. 

Paley. {Giving hand) With my whole heart. {He retains 
her hand a moment, and looks steadily in her face. She drops 
her eyes, and he releases her hand.) 

Enter Esther l. 1 k, a» open letter in her hand. 

Esther. I don't know how this is going to end. 

Rhoda. What 1 

Esther. After staying away a whole week, to send a letter 
like this ! 

Rhoda. What does he say ? 

Esther. That I must emancipate myself from mamma. 
Think of using such a big word as that to his loving little wife. 
Now, I'm going to be just as bad to him. I'm wearing a dress 
he can't bear. You told him about the ball, Paley 1 

Paley. Yes. 

Esther. And that I expected to have a glorious time ? 
{Voice breaking.) 

Paley. I did. {Aside.) Oh ! let us be joyful! — but we can't 

Esther. He will find that I don't care, if he is away from 
me. I'm not going to miss a dance to-night. 

Rhoda. But you wrote him you were ill. 

Esther. And he says, in his letter, I shall have medical ad- 
vice at once. {Sleigh-beUs heard, at first distant, afterward 
distinct. 

Paley. Yes, and he enjoined upon me that, at half-past 
nine, you should be here in the conservatory. 

Esther. Then he's coming. 

Rhoda. But it's half-past nine now. 

Paley. And there's the sleigh. 

Esther. Sure enough. 

Paley. {At door r.) Shall I say you are here? 



28 JOHiS" delmer's daughters. 

Esther. ( Urging him off.) Yes, yes, Paley, go ! quick ! quick ! 
{Exit Paley K. Esther daps her hands and laughs.) Rlioda, 
he's come ! lie's actually come ! {Mock seriousness.) In tliis 
letter, be insists on my jroiug to him. 

Rhoda. And you would not? 

Esther. N — n — no ! The woman who shows herself only once 
submissive toiler husband, is lost. Mamma said so. Mamma 
can prove it by the most astounding examples. I'm going to 
show him that I'm pertectly indifferent. I am indifferent. 
{Looking off Ji,.) How long he is ! 

Rhoda. He's talking to Paley. {She lias been looking out 
anxiously.) 

Esther. When he sees this dress, he'll see that J don't in- 
tend to yield. 

Rhoda. You'd better meet him half way. 

Esther. When 7ie has already come the wJiole way. You 
silly girl ! 

Rhoda. {Turning to her.) But Esther — 

Esther. I tell you, I shall see him here — yes, at my feet. 

Rhoda. Some one's coming up the walk. 

Esther. {WitJt a half-suppressed cry of joy .) It's he ! Dear 
Fred ! How I tremble ! {She seises Rhoda's hand. They loth 
stand c, listening intently, but not looking.) I hear his foot- 
steps. A moment more ! Oh ! it seems a week. {Keeping 
time loith her head as she speaks.) Nearer — nearer — nearer ! 
{Boor R. opens.) Here he is ! Fred ! 1 {She turns loith a cry of 
joy.) 

Enter West r. , quickly closing the door after him. 

West. Good-evenins, Mrs. Van Arnem. 

Esther. {Starting back.) Good heavens 1 not Fred ! {At 
first sight of West, Rhoda has icithdraion up l. , loith exclanuUion 
of fear, and stands regarding Idm intently.) 

West. Fred? Were you expecting Fred? — Miss Manly. 

{BOIDS.) 

Rhoda. {Bowing and in faint voice.) Dr. West. {E'nter 
Paley r., and speaks aside witJi West. As soon as West turns 
from Rhoda, she caiches the door-post L. 3 e. to steady herself ; 
then, aside.) I onust get — the packet. {With quick look at 
West, exit l. 3 e.) 

West. {Apart to Paley.) I think, on the whole, Mr. and 
Mrs. Delmer too, had better know of my presence here. {Exit 
Paley l. 1 e. West crosses and looks after him. Aside.) 
I'm the last guest in the world they expected to-night. Now, 
fair cousin — 

Esther. Outrageous ! 

West. Wbat ? 

Esther. Your coming. 

West. You sent word that you were ill. 

Esther. And Fred — Dr. Van Arnem said he^d come. 

West. Pardon me. He promised medical advice, and I am 
at your service. 



JOHIS" DELMER's DArGHTERS. 29 

Esther. You ? 
^'- West. Yes, hearing of tliis ball, and that you, tliougli ill, 
were hurling yourself into the mad vortex of pleasure, we grew 
alarmed ; so, in the immortal words of the still more immortal 
Cassius, I said to my cousin, " I am a doctor, I, older in prac- 
tice, abler than yourself" — (Aside ) to make conditions. 

Esther. Horrid man ! You tell him I'm well, and that I'm 
wearing my flame-colored dress with yellow trimmings. 

West. I warn you. He's very much annoyed. 

Esther. He ! Better and better ! he worries and torments 
Ms poor little wife, and he's very much annoyed. The world's 
upside down. Here have I been waiting and longing — I should 
like to know how he has passed the time. 

West. Pleasantly enough, 

Esther. Indeed ! 

West. After leaving here a week ago, he first settled every- 
thing about the little house at Irvington. 

Esther. Yes. 

West. Then we took the train for the city. 

Esther. Well ? 

West. After a pleasant evening at the theatre, having no 
home to go to, we went to the Brunswick. The next few days 
were spent in purchasing household gods — I mean goods. 

Esther. Well ? 

West. Last night, to celebrate the completion of a satisfac- 
tory week's work, a little circle of us — old classmates — 
supped at Delmonico's. Toasted everything we could think of — 
good wives included — 

Esther. {With difficulty restraining her indignation.) And 
then— ? 

West. We took the — morning train for Fred's home. 

Esther. His home ? 

West. It would be, if his wife were there. 

Esther. Does he expect her ? 

West. Constantly. I think that letter tells you so. 

Esther. It's a horrid letter 1 There 1 {Tearing the letter in 
pieces and throioing the pieces in West's hat.) Fred knows I'm 
fond of him, and counts upon it, to bring me to him. Very 
good ! I won't be fond of him any more. I'll give him twenty- 
four hours — no, that's a great deal too long — twelve hours — no, 
two. In two hours he comes penitently back, or — 

West. You'll go to him. 

Esther. No ! no ! By no means ! Most certainly not ! I don't 
know yet what I shall do, but it'll be something dreadful. Tell 
Mm that. {Changing tone and speaking half pleadingly.) 
Won't you ? Won't you tell him ? just what I say ? Tell him 
with an anxious face — like this — as if you didn't know what I 
was going to do. 

Enter Delmer l. I.e., unfolding a newspaper. 

Delmer. {Looking in -first.) Ah ! He is here. My child, will 



30 JOHN delmer's daughters.. 

you leave us a moment. (Esther peevishly stamps Jier foot 
at the interruption, and goes up, and as Delmer approaches 
West, she goes out l. 8 e.) You are here. 

West. I am. 

Delmer, I'm glad — no, not glad, but — 

West. I'm liere all the same. I understand, sir. 

Delmer. {Pointing to column of newspaper.) What's the 
meaning of this ? 

West. Of what ? 

Delmer. This article in yesterday's paper. {Beads.) " Van- 
couver and Portland B. B. — small and insignifieimt tranch — 
no possibility of road ever being built — most worthless stocJc in the 
market— ^for further particulars apply, &G." Signed L. W. Can 
you deny that those are your initials ? 

West. Not while Leonard is spelt with an L, and West with 
a W. 

Delmer. Then you wrote it. 

West. I did. It was my duty. 

Delmer. Duty ? 

West. I'm just from that section of the country ; represent 
the road, of wliich this is supposed to be a branch. Our own 
interest compelled me to show the facts. 

Delmer. You know the road's been projected, the line sur- 
veyed — 

West. And yet the Vancouver and Portland will never exist 
except in the books of a certain stock-speculator. 

Delmer. The Vancouver and Portland, sir, is — 

West. In plain words, a swindle. You have some of the 
stock, I suppose. No cause for alarm. I'm told that the origi- 
nator of the scheme, whoever he may be, to hush the matter up 
and save liis name, has called iu all the stock issued, and paid 
for it dollar for dollar. 

Delmer. So I did, sir ; so I did. 

West. {Alarmed.) You ? you don't mean to say you are 
the man. 

Delmer. You didn't know that ? 

West. No. 

Delmer. {Sneering.) Oli ! of course not. — And I've spent 
forty thousand dollars on the cursed thing. I'll lose every 
cent ofit — all tlu'ough you. 

West. {Serious.) I'm very sorry, but I give you my word, 
I was fighting jou in the dark. 

Enter Mrs. Delmer l. 1 e., with a netospaper in her 
hand. 

Mrs. D. I only waited to find this paper. {Holding paper 
before West and pointing to a portion. ) You are the author. 

West. The fashion column ! Madam, I have not the honor. 

Mrs. D. You deny it ? {Points.) L. W. 

West. My dear madam, I have not, in my humble name, 
monopolized those letters. 



JOHN delmer's daughters. 31 

Mks. D. Can it be any one else ? 

West. Since I did not write it, I must confess tlie cliances 
are stronf^ly in favor of some one else. 

Mrs. D. You haven't seen it, John. {Reads.) " TTie lady 
in three sJiades of yellow and red." Wlio can it be but me ? 

Delmer. (Taking the paper.) Who can it be but my wife ? 

Mrs. D. And tlie conclusion is an outrage. 

Delmer. Yes, sir, an outrage. 

West. (To Delmer, taking tlie paper.) Have you seen it? 

Delmer. My wife says so, and when she says a thinw — 

West. (Apart to Mm.) It's useless for you to contradict, I 
understand. (Reads.) "The lady, whose appea/i^ance at the 
Charity Ball we thus celebrate, frequently airs her fondness for 
yellow and red, in a turkey-red victoria picked out with straw- 
color, a crimson dress with trimmings of old-gold satin, pale pink 
tonnet, beneath which the — (Hesitates, looks up at Mrs. Delmer, 
then reads in a loioer tone) — saffron yellow face — " 

Mrs. D. You needn't read it all. 

West. Madam, this is severe. They cannot mean you, 

Mrs. D. They do mean me. 

Delmer. They do mean my wife. 

West. But I protest. / am guiltless. This paper is a 
fortnight old. A fortnight ago I was in the Far West. This 
malicious inventor of the safEron yel — 

Mrs. D. That'll do. John (toith a crushing look at West), 
our invited guests will miss us. (Mcit l. 1 E.) 

Delmer. Dr. West, I take my leave. (Exit L. 1 E.) 

West. (At door l. 1 e., looking after him.) In the words of 
the dyspeptic Dane, you cannot, sir, take from me anythinij 
that I will more willingly part withal (Enter Esther l. 3 
E.), except your wife, except your wife, except — I'm forgetting 
my patient all this time. My dear cousin, this illness of 
yours — 

Esther. I need a change of air. 

West. You should go to Irvington. 

Esther. Mamma has planned a trip for me to Canada. 

West. Ah ! the only air which will brincr back the color to 
your cheeks comes over ihe broad bosom of the Hudson, mur- 
murs through the trees that surround a little home in Irving- 
ton, and a poor doctor, sitting alone in his study, by the cosy 
fireplace, hears it moaning in the chimney. 

Esther. Do you think if I — no ! Mamma says, if I submit 
but a little, Fred will rule like an emperor. 

West. He wants only the empire of your heart. 

Esther. From which he's turned away of his own free 
will. No ! no ! ! for the last time, no ! ! ! Let him return to 
me. 

West. He will not. Rather through long years — 

Esther. (Half frightened. ) What ? (Almost a whisper.) 

West. With such firmness of character on both sides — 

Esther. You really think he would — for years — 



32 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

West. It looks like it now. (Aside.) If she only knew 
what I know. 

Esther. Doesn't he want to see me the least bit in the 
world ? 

West. Suppose you find out. 

Esther. How. 

West. A short drive to Irvington. 

Esther. Dr. West! 

West. The sleigh which brought me is waiting at the gate. 
See? {He points. Esther seems very much interested, and looks 
eagerly where he directs her eyes.) Oh ! what a rejoicing there 
will be, when the door of the little house opens, and, instead of 
that horrid Dr. West, a veiled lady slips in and glides quietly 
to the study. The door opens ! the man by the fire looks up ! 
there's a cry ! a rush ! husband and wife are in each other's 
arms, and tbe wind in the chimney stops moaning and whistles 
for joy, because they are together. 

Esther. Oh, dear ! 

West. You'll go to him ? 

Esther. {Hesitatingly.) Ye-e-s. 

West. Soon ? 

Esther. {Decisively.) Yes. 

West. Now ? 

Esther. At once. 

West. You will ! Good ! You've been dancing and 
mustn't go out in the cold. We accept the will for the deed. 
I'll bring him in. {Going towards door R.) 

Esther. Bring him in ? 

West. He's out there now. 

Esther. What ? 

West. In that sleigh. 

Esther. And you wouldn't tell me? Fred, the husband of 
my heart ! He loves me still — his stupid, obstinate little wife ! 
(Proudly.) I knew he couldn't hold out. Quick! quick! Dear 
Doctor, tell him anything you like. Brinir him in, bring him 
in. (West stai'ts to go, she urging him, when suddenly she stops, 
then runs and seizes his arm.) Oh ! no ! Stop ! I've got this 
horrible dress on ! He despises it ! Oh, dear ! What shall I 
do? 

West. Go, change it. 

Esther. There isn't time. 

West. You must make time. I'm certain, I'm sure, every 
fold of that dress proclaims eternal war between you. Run ! 
put on another — the one he likes best. 

Esther. My white one. 

West. Yes, the Avhite one. Meet him with the olive- 
branch — a white dove of peace. (Leading her to L. 3 e.) 

Esther. I'll fly ! (Exit l. 3 e.) 

West. Just what a well-regulated dove ought to do. Fly ? 
I feel like it myself. (Coming c.) Victoria ! 



JOHN" delmer's daughters. 33 

{Sings.) Tlioufrli not a bird am I, 

Joy's carried, me up so liigli, 
That a pair of winjrs are essential things 
To bring me from the sky. 

Exit hastily E. 

Enter L. 1e. MAnGARKT, foUowed iy Paley. 

Marg. But, Paley, I don't understand. {Looking around.) 
Paley. I'm sorry to take you from your guests, but I 

coiihin't talk with so many around ; and I have something 

which I am anxious to tell you. 

Margaret, crossing v.. c, stops and holes out R. intently, 
as tliough something attracted her attention. 

Marg. Paley ! {She extends her left hand toioard him, 
without moving her eyes from the object at which she is looking. 
Paley crosses quickly to her) There's some one going down 
the walk toward the side gate. (Points.) Don't you see? A 
man ! He's going through the gate. Why ! there's a sleigh 
standing there ! 

Paley. {Nervously.) I — is there? {Looks intently, then 
speaks in a tone of affected stirprise.) Why ! so there is. 

Marg, I thought I heard voices here. I fancied, too, I 
heard the glass door shut. {Goes to door R., and tries theknob ; 
the door opens.) It's unlocked ! {She looks in alarm at Paley. 

Paley. D — don't be alarmed ; 1 unlocked it. 

Marg. You ? {At first surprised, then as she looks at him 
a second and at the sleigh, a light dawns upon her. Shaking her 
head, aside.) Aha ! {She then turns her head slowly, and directs 
a steady, half angry, searching ga&e at Paley, loho lowers his 
eyes.) Now I understand what called my parents and Esther 
here a few moments since. — Paley, a few minutes ago you 
brought a letter from Esther's husband. He writes tliat he 
will take her away. Is he not waiting out there now ? {She 
lias approached Paley during above.) 

Paley. {Nods.) Emulating the worthy example of a certain 
noted lamb, "waiting patiently without till Esther doth appear." 
(Margaret's attention seems attracted again in the same direct 
Hon. Then she looks at Paley. Paley nods his head.) Yes, 
he's there, too. 

Marg. He ? Who I 

Paley. The one you want to ask about, but won't. 

Marg. You mean— ? 

Paley. Dr. West. (Margaret indignant.) You misun- 
derstand him entirely. He's not trying to injure your father. 

Marg. He certainly is. How I wish he were not ! 

Paley. Why, it wouldn't be possible for him to do it — 
grand, noble fellow that he is ! Why, he's the most generous- 
hearted of men. {Enter Rhoda l. 3 E., with a large envelope 
tied with red tape and sealed. She is quick and nervous in her 
movements, and checks herself at sight of Margaret.) I don't 



34 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

even believe there's any danger to you all, if lie does get tlie 
packet — 

Marg. Packet ! danger ! 

Paley. {Aside, frightened.) Great Csesar ! 

Khoda. {With frightened look at Paley, then crossing to 
Jiim, and speaking in breathless voice.) Paley, you've not told 
Margaret. 

Paley. {Nervously) I — I — I — 

Rhoda. {Grossing eagerly to Makgaeet.) Margaret, what 
has he said to you ? 

Marg. Something about danger threatening us from Dr. 
West. 

Rhoda. ( With forced gayety) Is that all ? 

Marg. There is something. 

Rhoda. Oh ! no ! no ! I was afraid he had unnecessarily 
alarmed you. Paley, how could you be so — 

Paley. Stupid. Say it. Somehow, everybody hits upon 
that word to describe me. Henceforth my model shall be that 
ravishing but silent bivalve — the oyster. 

Marg. {To Paley.) But you said danger — 

Paley. I'm an oyster ! Hear my oyster — austere vow. As 
Mr. lago says, "What you know you know; from this time 
forth /never will speak word" {aside) until Rboda says I may, 

Marg. Rhoda, explain. 

Rhoda. Why, Margaret, I — 

Marg. What is the danger ? 

Rhoda. {SpeaMng tcith great effort to ajypear unconcerned.) 
If you must know, it's a business matter between your father 
and Dr. West. Business men are always in danger from one 
another, when they speculate, you know ; and when there are 
stocks and — and mines — railroad shares, and — and so forth, one 
often has information that another wants ; and, if he had it, 
could make a great deal of money, but the other one vises it, 
and — the — other — one loses money ; but soon he gets it back 
again, and the other one loses it — and — it's all business — busi- 
ness ; don't you understand ? 

Marg. I understand that you are keeping something from 
me. 

Paley. ( Who has been watching r.) They are coming. 

Rhoda starts with slight exclamation, and clutches the 
packet more tightly with one hand, at the same time ex- 
tending the other to Margaret. 

Rhoda. Margaret ! 

Marg. You mean what father told me — about that rail- 
road. 

Paley. {With sudden thought) The Vancouver and Port- 
land. 

Marg. That's the name. (Rhoda expresses relief in dumb 
show.) Is it so serious then ? 

Paley. Pretty serious. Railroad and mining stock is about 



JOHN" delmee's daughtees. 35 

as bad to handle as dynamite. When they burst they go, and 
when they do go, you can't find enough of a man's worldly 
goods to hold an inquest over. 

Marg. Dr. West would make my father poor? {BroJcen 
voice.) I would not have believed that of him. (Shows some 
emotion. ) 

Ehoda. (Apart to her) Margaret, you are in love with 
Dr. West. 

Marg. Rhoda ! 

Palet. They are here. 

Footsteps heard outside as if treading on frozen crust of 
the snow. Margaret looks r., Rhoda standing close 
beside her. 

Rhoda. At least promise me not to be angry with him. 

Marg. You see how much he thinks of me. He doesn't 
hesitate even to bring great loss upon my father. I'll never 
forgive him that — never. 

Rhoda. But, Margaret, dear — 

Margaret is c, drawn to her full height and standing 
motionless, looking R. , with defiance on her face. Rhoda 
holding her left hand, stands partly behind her, though 
bending forward with her eyes fixed anxiously upon the 
door R. Paley tcp R. Enter Fred, followed by 
West. 

Fred. (E/gerly.) Ah! Margaret! (Looking around.) 
Where's Esther ? 

Marg. Ask your cousin. Of late he seems to have taken 
control of the family. 

Fred turns inquiringly to West, 

West. (Observing Margaret's manner, though at first about 
to reply naturally to Fred, changes his tone.) I didn't like the 
dress she was wearing, and, as I have control of the family, I 
sent her to change it. 

Rhoda. She is so anxious to see you. 

Fred. Not more than I am to see her. It has been hard to 
be severe with my dear little wife. 

Rhoda. (Aside to Paley down l.) They are united again. 
That part of the work already done ! and they shall help me do 
the rest. — Dr. Van Arnem, before your wife comes, may I speak 
with you ? 

Fred. Certainly, Miss Manly, 

Rhoda goes up to door l. 3 e., as Paley comes down 
hastily to Fred. 

Paley. (Aimrt.) Do the square thing. Hush ! She'll tell 
you everything. 
Rhoda. (Holding door L. 3 e. open.) In your study ? 



36 JOH]sr delmer's daughtees. 

Fred. (Aside.) My former study. (Aloiid.) If you -wisli. 
{As he goes vp.) Leonard, will you — ? 

West. Certainly we'll excuse you. {Glancing across at 
Margaret, who stands l.) I dare say we shall be sufficiently 
entertained without you. 

Paley. {Aside, looking at Margaret.) Somebody'll be 
entertained when the storm on that angry brow bursts. (Fred 
motions Rhoda to go first. She goes. Ee foUoics. Still tcatch- 
ing Margaret, who is impatiently tapping her foot on the floor.) 
The barometer is fallinof. The heavens are overcast. 

West, (r.) Did you speak, Paley ? 

Palky. Oh, I was remarking to myself that man {glancing 
at West and Margaret) as a social animal was not always a 
success. 

West. Tell Esther that her husband awaits her whenever 
she is ready. 

Paley. {Crossing l. 1 e. stops. Aside.) The last ray of sun- 
light withdraws from the scene. The storm's about to begin. 
And {with sudden alarnfi) , great ginger! i caused it all. {Looks 
at West and Margaret ; quick exit.) 

West. Miss Delmer, I'm indebted to you for this opportunity 
of speaking to you. 

Marg. Why are you here to-night ? 

West. Because I never give up what I've once undertaken. 
It's constitutional with me. 

Marg. What have you undertaken ? 

West. To win the love of the only woman I've ever seen 
whom I lona:ed to make my wife. 

Marg. Your wife ? 

West. My wife. I came to-night — apparently for Fred ; 
really for myself — seeking for Esther — 

Marg. Esther ! 

West. But also — for Margaret. (Margaret looks at him 
proudly.) Don't be alarmed. I have prevailed with Esther. 
She will fjo with her husband to their own home to-night. I 
hope to be equally successful with her sister. 

Marg. With me? 

West. With you. 

Marg. Your method of askino^ is strange. 

West. I can't help it. I believe I never did anything like 
other people. If I'd been anybody else, I suppose I should have 
let the Avords you spoke at New Orleans shut you forever out of 
my thoughts. So lar from that, I kept to my purpose, in let- 
ting you go from me as I did. 

Marg. Your purpose ? 

West. Yes, and a week ago I came to let you know it. You 
were not ready to hear me, so I have waited until now. To-night 
I must make you understand me. 

Marg. I Avill try to do so ; for this meeting must be our last. 

West. It may be so ; it is possible that, at a distance, with- 
out our meeting, I can still watch over you. 



jOHiq- delmer's daughters. 37 

Maeg. Watch over me ? 

West. You have not forgotten the night when we sat to- 
gether on the deck of the steamer, with darkness about us, and 
no sound except the throbbing of the engines and the churning 
of the waters beneath us, on our way down the Mississippi ? 
Your hand lay in mine. The silence was broken. You said 
the life 1 had saved belonged to me to care for, to watch over — 
forever. 

Makg. I — I know that I'm under obligation to you. 

West. Obligation ! I feared it. I was afraid you had mis- 
taken gratitude for love, so I resolved to try you. 

Marg. Try me ? 

West. I suffered you to misunderstand me ; even, finally, 
to leave me in anger. Aflerwards, three years ago, I sent you 
a letter declaring that I would call upon you this very month, 
but leaving you entirely free. I kept to every word, remained 
away until the time had come — all that 1 might know whether 
I had your gratitude merely — or — your love. 

Maeg. You are satisfied that it was only gratitude. 
• West. You are trying to make me think so. But I under- 
stand you better. 

Maeg. Indeed ! 

West. You are struggling to believe that you' cannot be 
mine and I yours. But it must be. I cannot, indeed, conceal 
what I really think of your parents, but I am not unkind to 
them. I cannot woo as others woo, and you try to believe 
that I am cold — and unfeeling — and — insincere. Margaret, I 
can say no more — and no less — than I love you — be my wife. 

Maeg. You speak so to me, after wiiat has hajjpened ? 

West. Still more, for what has happened. Why! so far 
from loving you less,- when I find you defending your parents, 
eveu against the man you love — 

Maeg. What ! ! 

West. Then we'll say, against the man who loves you. — I 
love you all the more. 

Maeg. How can you say that word to me, after what 
you've done 1 

West. What have I done ? 

Maeg. Shown me by your own acts, that you really look 
down upon me, as you confess you do upon my parents. 

West. Oh ! I have shown this. 

Maeg. During the past week. 

West. And by my own acts '? 

Maeg. Yes. 

West. How ? 

Maeg. Are you not trving to take my sister away from 
us? 

West. To unite her to her husband. 

Maeg. Because you're ashamed of her family. 

West. Because I don't wish to grow ashamed of my cousin. 
Come now, be.just. 



38 JOHIS" delmer's daughteks. 

Makg-. I know, as well as you, tliat Esther belongs in lier 
husband's home. Under other circumstances I should be glad ; 
but you are separating her from us, only — 

West. Only for the sake of her happiness and that of her 
husband, whom I love as my brother. 

Marg. Your other acts cannot be thus explained. There's 
no misunderstanding your conduct during the past week. 

West. My conduct? 

Marg. Even if I'd been in doubt, that would have decided 
me. But I never doubted. 

West. Doubted what ? 

Marg. That you would regard me, in gome measure, as 
you do my parents. I know you are unconscious of this feel- 
ing, but it is there — deep down in your heart — so deep you try 
to persuade yourself that it does not exist, but, all the same, it 
is there, and it stands an everlasting barrier between you and 
me. You see, I can be as calm and speak as collectedly as 
you ; because I want you to recognize the truth as I do — that 
we must part — so that it may be in peace ; and then, for the 
great service you once rendered me, I can retain forever a feel- 
ing of gratitude. 

West. Oh ! no ! no gratitude. 

Marg. Let us be reasonable, and say good-by — for the 
happiness of both. 

West. Would you be happier, then, if we parted for good ? 
{She turns ; he proceeds quickly.) If I thought so, I would say 
good-by to-night, and pass out of your life forever. For you — 
why ! I would make any sacrifice. If necessary — yes, even 
that. 

Marg. Dr. West, I — I don't know what to think of you. 
How you can say what you've just said, after such conduct — 
Why ! your acts speak for themselves. 

West. I've tried to explain. 

Marg. About Esther and her husband. Yes. But your 
efEorts to injure my father. 

West. Injure ? I ? 

Marg. I had it from him. Whatever else he may be, 
he's honest, upright ; and I believe his word. He said he was 
threatened with a heavy loss through you. 

West. Through me ? 

Marg. I don't know the particulars. I didn't want to 
know. Something to do with a railroad. 

West. {Starting. Aside.) Ah ! — Why, Margaret, do you 
think that I — 

Marg. I love my father — with all his faults, I love him. 

West. You say you don't know the particulars of this rail- 
road. 

Marg. Will you tell me? {Looking into his face with an 
expression of mistrust.) 

West. {Returns her look. About to speak, then checks him- 
self.) No. 



jOHJsr delmer's daughtees. 39 

Marg. Then I shall believe — 

West, I've done my duty only. I can say no more. 

Marg. Dr. West, there is dangler threateninpr my father 
at your hands. Paley almost told it, and Rhoda tried to con- 
ceal it from me. She asked to see your cousin alone. She is 
now showinor him the proof of what I say. I don't know what 
it is. A packet, I believe. In the goodness of her heart, she's 
trying to ward this danger off, trying to save my father from 
yoa. 

West. You are j adging hastily. 

Marg. Then you deuy it ? 

West. I do. 

Enter Rhoda, l. 3 e, 

Marg. When Ehoda and my father both say — 

West. They are both mistaken. 

Marg. Rhoda ! Now we shall see. 

West. We shall. Miss Manly, you are just in time. Miss 
Delmer misunderstands everything I do. From at least one 
accusation you can clear me. 

Rhoda. I, Dr. West? 

West. She declares her father to be in peril through me ; 
that there is some — {tuiming to Margaret)— a packet, I believe 
you said — yes, a packet — the proof that what she charges me 
with is true. Will you be kind enough to give me information 
about this mysterious packet ? 

Rhoda, {Anxiously) Margaret ! 

Marg. Answer Dr. West Rhoda. 

Ehoda. Not here ! not now ! 

West. Why, what's the meaning of this 1 

Rhoda. {To Margaret.) I told you it was. a matter of 
business. 

Marg, I want to know what it is. 

Enter Fred, l. 3 e. , the packet in his hand. 

Rhoda. {To West.) Your cousin will explain. 

West. But this packet ! 

Rhoda. He has it. 

West. Fred, what in the world is the trouble here ? 

Fred. Oh ! nothing, old man, only this came into my hands, 
and now it goes into yours. {Oiving him the packet. Then, as 
West is about to open it.) You haven't time to examine it now ; 
wait till we get home. 

West. I'm told that this is the proof that I have tried to 
injure Mr. Delmer. 

FuED. Who says so 1 

Marg, I, Dr. Van Arnem. 

Fred. Well, Margaret, you are wrong. 

Marg. You know the contents of the packet ? 

Fred. Yes. 

Maug. Do they, in any way, place my father in Dr. West's 
power ? 



40 JOH]sr delmer's daughters. 

Fred. What could have put such an idea into your head ? 

Marg. Answer me. I know that is what he's seeking 
for. 

West. Margaret, do you loant to believe me guilty of what 
you say ? 

Marg. It isn't what I want to believe, but what I must. 

West. I'll not hear you wrong yourself by speakiug so of 
me. 

Marg. Then explain. What are you all keeping from 
me ? What is that packet ? {Pointing to packet in West's 
7iand.) 

West. Nothing /need fear. 

Marg. Be carefal. 

West, I'll prove it. Miss Manly, have I ever seen this 
before ? 

Rhoda. No. 

West. Am I in any way acquainted with its contents ? 

Ehoda. I'm sure you're not. 

West. And whatever is here is the truth ? 

Rhoda. Yes. 

West. You are sure ? 

Rhoda. Yes, but — 

West. Oh ! I'm not afraid. My acts are open — as noon- 
day. Miss Delmer, I hope it is clear to you that I haven't the 
slightest idea what this contains. {Spoken to Margaret.) 
But as I'm assured it is the truth, examine it yourself first. 
He offers it to liev. Rhoda starts forward in terror. Fred 
comes quickly between and catches his hand.) 

Fred. Leonard ! 

Moment's pause. — Picture. 

Marg. {Indicating Fred and Rhoda's anxiety to West.) 
You see, Dr. West. You have yet to learn what it is to fight 
with such weapons against me. Take from us everything we 
possess, bring us to poverty, tcant even, you will never change 
me — still less after this. Now we understand each other. — 
Good-night. {Exit L. 1 e. West makes a mom to follow, l)ut 
is intercepted by Rhoda, who, with clasped hands and an appeal- 
ing look, stops him.) 

West. Miss Manly ! Fred ! What's tlie matter ? What 
is this ? (Packet.) 

Fred. Proof that her father is a scoundrel. 

Rhoda, Oh, Dr. West ! be merciful ! 

West. I? Why — see here! {To Fred) Tell me plainly 
what's the meaning of it all? 

Fred. It means, Leonard, that John Delmer's wealth 
came from money which belonged to our uncle, Richard Varry. 

West. {Amazed.) What ! ! 

Fred. Esther's coming ! {Crossing to door i.. 3 E.) Here, 
Leonard, go to the study and examine the packet while I speak 
to her. (West, crossing, is almost at door, ichen Rhoda speaks.) 



JOHN delmer's daughters. 41 

Rhoda. (In Imrried tcliisper.) Dr. West, Margaret be- 
lieves in her father. You don't know what suffering it would 
cause lier if she were to learn this. Have pity on her and 
on me. 

West. Miss Manly ! 

Ehoda. Tell me what you will do. i 

West. Let me first read this, and then I'll know. (ExU 
Ij. 3 E. Rhoda gives a quick gasp and makes one step toicard 
door, icith arms extended jyleadingly, when — ) 

Fked. Sh— h— h ! Esther ! 

Enter Esther l. 1 e., in wliite dress, trying to fix a rose 
in her hair, which, from nei'wusnes, she cannot do. 

Esther. Fred ! 

Fred. Esther ! (Embrace.) 

Esther. You wicked, dear husband I No, we won't say 
anything about the past ; Fni not angry now. All the time I 
meant to forgive you. 

Enter l. 1 e., Mrs. B'E.TjMES , foUoioed iy Delmer, 

Mrs. D. (Pointing to picture of Esther in Freb's ai'ms.) 
Didn't I tell you 1 I knew he was around, the moment I saw 
that dress. 

Delmer. You've come to reason, have you ? 

Mrs. D. I'm glad you've come at last, Fred. 

Fred. I've come to say that my home is ready for its mis- 
tress. 

Delmer. How ? Tour home ? 

Fred. I take my wife to my own house to-night. 

Mrs. D. What ! ! 

Esther. (With « timid look at her mother.) To-night? 
(Evidently awed by her mother, and speaking nervously.) Fred, 
you're unkind to me. I am good to you, when I might be 
angry, and — now you're beginning all over again. 

Delmer. Fred, what's the matter with you lately? 

Fred. I'll be plain. My eyes have been opened to my true 
position in this house. It was unworthy of a man who respects 
liimself and exacts respect from others. 

Mrs. D. What are you going to do ? 

Fred. Take my wife to myself. I must be sole master in 
whatever pertains to Esther and me. 

Mrs. D. You want to rob this artless, inexperienced child 
of my protection. 

Fhed. To give her mine. 

Mrs. D. Oh ! yes ! You (To Fred) are to rule. (To Es- 
ther.) And you to serve. 

Fred. I am to honor, and she is to obey. 

Rhoda. ( Who has during above been anxiously watching door 
L. 3 E.) (Aside) Will he never come ? 

Fred. Esther, will you come with me ? 

Mrs. Delmer is about to speak, when Rhoda catches her 
arm and draios leer aside. 



42 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

Rhoda, Don't oppose liim. Oh ! I can keep it from you 
no longer. What I feared has come to pass. 
Mks. D. What you feared? 
Rhoda. The heirs ! 
Mrs. D. Ricliard Varry's? 
Rhoda. Sh-sh-sh ! 
Mrs. D. Rhoda ! 

Rhoda. These are the men ! I've told him. {Pointing to 
Fred.) And now — {She points into room l. 3 e. and speaks in 
dumh sliow. Mrs. 1)elmer 71 early calls out in her amazement, 
hut Rhoda checks her, and they converse, Rhoda ezidently tell- 
ing of West in room l. 3 e. Mrs. Delmer looking there and at 
Fred, as if trying to realize the truth. This action is unseen 
hy the others, who continue the scene.) 

Esther. I — I'd go through fire and water, to Greenland or 
to China. I'd share a crust of bread with you, pet, and not 
murmur, if it were necessary. But this is only a whim. 

Fred. A whim, Esther? The honor and independence of 
your husband ? 

Esther. The peace and comfort of your wife ? Don't for- 
get the blazing cheeks and kitchen apron. I — I wasn't brought 
up to that, and I — I iD07i't do it, there ! If I loved you less, I'd 
yield to your caprices. You shall see now, I can be as reason- 
able as I am loving. 

Delmer. Perfectly right, my child. I didn't give my 
daughter to you to take away from here. What have you got 
to offer her, anyhow ? You want her to give up a home, where 
she has everything she wants, for such a one as you could give 
her ? In your poverty — 

Fred. {Indigna/ntly.) Mr. Delmer ! 

Delmer. Oh ! you may be a very learned physician, but 
learning doesn't put bread in your mouth. 

Mrs. Delmer and Rhoda have gradually teen draicing 
back from door l. 3 e. , as though slirinking from 
West's approach. Rhoda merely moving around 
from front of door to side partly down l., Mrs. Delmer 
crossing behind her husband, who is R. By her looks 
she has shoicn alarm at his woi'ds, and, at his last speech, 
lays her hand on his ai^m. 
Mrs. D. John ! 

Delmer. Of course I don't mean to force my good money on 
you. {Enter West l. 3 e. Stands listening) But the time 
may come, when you'll be compelled to remember that you 
have a rich father-in-law. Don't forget that " He buys dearest 
who is forced to buy and waits till the last moment." 

Esther, during above, moves down l. to Rhoda. Mrs. 
Delmer seizes Jier husband's arm and looks anxiously 
into his face. Esther looks to Rhoda /or explanation. 
Rhoda, icith absent manner, her eyes fixed anxiously 
upon West, pats Esther's hand, which she holds in 
both her own. 



JOHN uelmee's daughters. 43 

Fred. You say this to me when, with one word, I could — 

West. {Coming in front of Mm.) Fred!! 

Feed. Why not speak ? Why not tell everything^ at once ? 

West. {In quiet tone.) Because your wife is listening. 

Feed. Esther! {Grasping West's hand) I'm a fool! 
{Crosses ^oEsthee.) My little wife. {Very tenderly.) 

EsTHEE. {Meeting him l. c.) Fred ! Why ! what's the 
meaning of all this? I don't — 

Feed. There ! there ! No matter, my darling. You leave 
us here with your father a moment. Go, join your sister. 
{He takes her toT,. 1 e., sJie still expressing, by her actions and 
looks, her desire to knouo the meaning of it all. He opens the 
door. She goes out.) 

Delmee. {To West) How dare you, sir, remain in this house, 
after what has happened ? 

West. Before I answer that question, I must beg these 
ladies to withdraw. (Rhoda moves anxiotisly to Feed, with a 
slight cry of alarm. Feed reassures her. Mes. Delmee has 
moved c, somewliat hack, crossing behi/id Delmee and West. 
TJiere is a marked change in West's manner toward tlie 
Delmees. He is considerate almost to gentleiiess.) 

Delmee. You needn't take the trouble to answer. 

West. I prefer to do so. 

Delmee. Whatever we have to say to each other must be 
said in my office. 

West. {Quietly.) What I have to say will be said here — 
now. (7'(9 Mes. Delmee.) Madam, may I request you to leave 
us to ourselves a fe'w moments ? {Crossing L. 1 E. and holding 
door open.) 

Mes. D. Don't be hard on us. (West starts, and looks at 
her in ama,zemerit) 

Ehoda. She knows ! I had to tell her. 

Mes. D. It's so sudden. I wouldn't care for myself, but — 
my — two girls. 

West. I beg of you. {Indicating door.) 

Ehoda. {Aside to her.) Mrs. Delmer, do as he asks you. 
Everything will come right, I'm sure. {Gots toward l. 3 E., 
where Feed has first led her.) 

Mes. D. {Crossing to door L. 1 E., turns.) If I"d only known 
before, I wouldn't have treated you as I did. (West makes an 
appealing gesture for her to depart. She does so. Rhoda at 
the same time going out l. 3 E.) 

Delmee. {Who has been watching in blank amazement.) 
Well, I'd like to know what all this is about. 

West. It will not take one minute, sir, to tell you. In the 
year eighteen-fifty-seven, the news came to a certain man in 
NeAV Orleans that his two sisters, from whom he had parted 
years before in anger, had been left widows, each with a son ; 
they had become poor, and, somewhere in the far North — 
he didn't know where — were struggling hard for a living. To 
atone for the past, he started in search of them, leaving all he 



44 joHisr delmer's daughters. 

possessed in the world — $75,000 — in tlie hands of his partner, 
a certain New Orleans banker — Mr. John Delmer. 

Delmer. Me ? 

West. The man was Richard Varry — my uncle. 

Delmer. What ! ! 

West. The sons of those two sisters stand before you, not 
to ask what you've done with the money, for that we know. 

Delmer. You— you — know ? 

West. But simply to ask a settlement. 

Delmer. You — you — don't mean to — 

West. The night before my uncle left, he gave this, 
{sJiowing packet) to a friend, and told him what to do in case he 
never returned. That friend was Rhoda Manly's father. 

Delmer. My clerk ! 

West. John Manly. 

Delmer. And this ? {Pointing to packet.) 

West. {Taking paper from it and sho^cing it to Delmer.) 
Articles of partnership, signed by you both, and an inventory 
of the property. Is that your sio^nature? 

Delmer. {After looking at it, sinking in chair R.) Yes ! 
Yes! 

West. Here is John Manly's story of your ruin, and how 
you saved yourself with my uncle's money. 

Delmer. I don't care to see it. This is so sudden I don't 
know what to say. I admit I've done wrong. I admit all you 
say. But don't let it be known. For the sake of my daujxhters, 
spare me that. Only keep it frovathem. You don't know what 
they are to me, and if they — oh ! man, man, don't be hard on 
me. Don't take away their love. It's not for myself I'm beg- 
ging, but for them. Do whatever you please with me, but 
spare my two daughters! 

West. You misunderstand me. I'm here for a settlement, 
not to make a threat. The legal rate of interest is six per cent. 
We will accept four. Tliat raises the amount, in twenty-five 
years, to double the sum left in your hands — $150,000. 

Delmer. {Amazed.) What! that all you want? you ask 
only that ? 

West. I speak of the matter to-night, because, during the 
past week, you've tried to injure Fred's prospects in the city, 
and,misrepresenting me to your daughter, have placed yourself 
between me and her love. 

Delmer. But now I'll — 

West. Do nothing whatever, to influence her in my behalf. 
I mean to fight the battle for her love, alone, unaided. All I 
ask of you is, to cease your unjust opposition — nothing more. 

Delmer. She needn't know the particulars. I can tell her 
you've saved me from ruin. 

West. It is to prevent any interference on your part, that I 
name these conditions to you. Not a breath from you or your 
wife for me. Is it understood ? 

Delmer. {After one or ttoo attempts to reply ; in hroken voice. ) 



JOHK delmer's daughters. 45 

I ain't used to such treatment as this, and it — makes me feel — 
kinder — queer. I — I'll do wliatever you ask. 

Enter L. 1 E., Mes. Delmer hastily. 

Mrs. D. {Anxiously.) For Heaven's sake ! Margaret's com- 
ing. (Fred and West r. Delmer and Mrs. Delmer go up c.) 

Delmer. No fear of them. Great Caesar ! what tliese two 
are made of, I don't know. One thing certain : I never saw 
their hke before. And I can't understand it noio. 
Margaret enters l. 1 e., followed by Esther. 

Marg. {Speaking as she enters.) I'll see for myself, Esther. 
This child tells me there is some trouble between you two and 
my father. 

Mrs. D. Margaret ! 

JEJnter Rhoda l. 3 e. 

Marg. Oh, mother, I know what has happened. They are 
trying to make you and father comply with their wishes. 

RnoDA. (Aside.) Be careful wliat you say. 

Mahg. The time for careful speaking is passed ; now we 
must speak plainly. Dr. West, I ask for an explanation. 

West. Margaret, it is out of my power to give one. 

Marg. You have nothing to say 1 

West. Yes, one thing. Trust me. 

Marg. How can I? 

West. You must. 

(Margaret turns from Mm angrily to Rhoda.) 

Fred. Esther I know trusts me. You will come with 
your husband ? 

Marg. {Coming between and addressing Esther.) Sister, 
you owe something to yourself, to us. To-night is no time for 
you to leave father and mother. Don't you see this is Dr. 
West's work? Prove your husband's love; and when you en- 
ter his house, go of your own free-will. 

Esther. Yes, Fred, I'll see whether you really love me. 

Fred. You doubt me? Then, good-by. 

Esther. Good — good — by. 

Fred. {Moving r.) I shall go alone. 

Esther. {Turning in alarm.) Really, oh ! no, no, no ! 
{Rushing to him and throwing her arms about his neck.) 

Pked. You force nie to it. 

Esther. Margaret ! Mamma ! {Crying.) I force him ! 
when I'm doing all I can to keep him. I'll hold you fa&t, so 
Now get away, if you can. 

Enter Paley l. 3 e. with small travelling-bag.) 

Fred. Paley ! I'm ready. My wife will not go with us to- 
night. She will come soon. (Esther releases Fred with a cry 
and moves away from him.) 

Exit Paley door R., not seeing Rhoda, who stands as if 
anxious to speak loith him. 



46 joHif delmer's daughters. 

Fred. We will meet next in our Lome. {Exit quickly R.) 
Esther. {Bushing after Mm.) Fred ! (Margaret stops 
her.) 

West. Margaret, you will understand me some time. 
Marg. Dr. West, you will go with your cousin. 

General movement. Mr. and Mrs. Delmer start down. 

West. Miss Delmer ! 

Marg. I cannot doubt the testimony of my own eyes. 

West. Your eyes deceive you. 

Marg. Then tell me what has happened here. Any one. 
{As she turns to them.) Silent, of course. I know {to West) what 
that means. But if my parents for<r"t what is due to our dignity 
and self-respect, I do not. If they fear danger from you, what- 
ever it is, I do not ; if they are willing to grant any demand, 
however slight, / am not ; if they will not make the answer 
your conduct now deserves, I will. {Facing him and pointing B..) 

Ehoda. 1 

Delmer. V Margaret ! ! ! 

Mrs. D. ) 

West. I admit you have some cause for suspicion. You 
have also the word of the man who loves you, that you are do- 
ing him a wrong — nothing but his word, for he cannot explain. 
This is not to try you. I would tell you everything, and clear 
myself, if it were not a duty to remain silent. It is a duty, so 
you must believe in me. 

Marg. Believe ! 

West. If hereafter, you do not understand me better, then 
we will part. 

Marg. We part now ! 

As they stand motionless looking at each other, the others 
toatcJt, the scene in breathless anxiety. After a moment's 
pause. West hows and goes out R. 2 e. Esther throws 
herself on her mother's breast, her arm about her neck. 
Margaret quickly passes her handkerchief over her 
eyes, looks steadily after West, then suddenly giving 
way, she throtcs herself into rustic chair, and btirsts into 
tears. Delmer, who lias been watching West, turns 
quickly, at Margaret's sobs, and regards her icith a 
troubled look. Rhoda, throicing herself upon her knees 
beside her, throws her arms around her. 

PiCTtfRE. 

Curtain. 




ACT III. 

Scene — The little Jiome at Irvington. Cosily furnished room 
beyond wldch, at back, another is seen. At back K. c. is large 
old-fashioned fireplace, icith andirons, tongs, etc. Left of fire- 
place, large double doors opeii into room at back, which is fur- 
nished in very light coloi' and more beautifully than front 
room. From left-hand side of double doors runs a line of 
windoiDS,iDith old fashioned small panes, the tcindows the?n- 
selves, broad and high, making convex curve to l. 1 e. 
Through these icindows is seen the outside of the wing in 
which the back room is supposed to be situated, together with 
a window which looks i)i to back room to left of double doors. 
1 Jirouqh this single vrindow the light shines upon (he back tcall 
of back room, so that it is seen through double doors. The 
space beticeen the line of windoios and the wing on fiat is over- 
hung by branches of trees upomohich issnotc, the country be- 
ing seen through the trees and, if necessary, a view) of Hudson 
River. The sun is supposed to be shining brightly, and, 
through the windoics, pours into the two rooms in a flood of 
light. There are shades, not curtains, to line of icindoics ; to 
double dom's portieres drawn close, l. 1 e., door leading out 
of doors ; r. 2 e., door leading into house ; r. c, table and 
chair ; large arm-chair by fire. Table in back room, also 
small tcork-stand. At rise of curtain , Paley discovered in 
arm-chair, asleep before fire, newspaper partly held in 7iis 
hand and partly lying on floor. Sdght knock heard. Paley 
stirs a little. Second knock. 

Paley. (Mutters.) Come in I [Third knock a little louder. 
FaIj'EY speaks a little louder.) Come in ! (^Louder knock.) Come 
in ! ! ( Very loud knock. Paley in disgust turns chair facing fire, 
and curls Jiim self in it for a good sleep. Short pause. Door Ij. 
opens slowly, and Rhoda cautiously apj)ears. Seeing no one, 
as PAiiEY is hidden by back of chair, she enters, looks around, 
then beckons. Esther enters cautiously and shuts the door.) 

Esther. I'm so frightened. — Rhoda ! {Beckoning icith her 
finger. Ehoda goes to her and listens.) Don't you think we'd 
better go back ? 

Rhoda. When we're already in the enemy's camp ? You 
wanted to have a peep at your husband's house. 

Esther. I couldn't help it, after your glowing description. 

Rhoda. You shall see that I didn't exaggerate a bit. It's a 
perfect gem of a place. 



48 JOHiq" delmer's daughters. 

EsTHEK. Yes, I nnHst look at it. But suppose we should 
meet them. 

Rhoda. Paley said that Dr. West and your husband were 
sure to be away to-day. They were going to New York on 
business, and wouldn't be back till night. 

EsTHEK. But they may chanjre their minds. 

Rhoda. Is that cme of their characteristics? 

Esther. (Sig/u/ig.) No. {BegretfaUy.) I never saw iwo 
men keep their word as those two do. Tliey're positively dis- 
heartening. But it would be dreadful, if they were to catch us 
here. 

Rhoda. Why ? You are the mistress of the house — even 
if you do not choose to live here. 

Esther. That's true. What is Fred's is mine ; isn't it ? 
And I've as much right here as he has ; haven't I ? 

Rhoda. Certainly. 

Esther. Even if I did meet him, I needn't speak to him, 
you know. You could say, I came merely out of curiosity, just 
to see how he managed to live ; couldn't you ? 

Rhoda. {Smiling at Iter.) Yes, I could sa^/ that. (Esther 
gives a satisfied toss of her head and goes up toicard the Jire, look- 
ing around v)onderi ugly.) {Aside.) Poor child ! a whole fort- 
night since she has seen her husband. But if Paley has done 
his part, as I've done mine, these two, at any rate, will not be 
separated much longer. {Aloud.) Paley promised to be on the 
watch for us. 

Esther. {Observing Paley's foot sliowiiig around tJie arm 
of the easy-chair, looks at it a moment, then rushes in alarm to 
Rhoda, calling in quick succession and in frightened whispers.) 
Rhoda ! Rhoda ! ! Rhoda 11! 

Rhoda. Esther ! 

Esther. See there. {Pointing.) 

Rhoda. What is it? 

Esther. A man's boot ! (Rhoda laughs, goes ux> and looks, 
to see who it is. Shoics sw prise. Esther, watchingher doion L., 
whispers.) Who is it ? 

Rhoda. {WIdspers.) Paley. {SJie "beckons Esther, who 
goes to her. Together they turn the cliair around from the fire, 
so as to bring Paley in full view of the audience. He is fast 
asleep.) This is the way he watches for us. (Paley shivers, 
a?id 2)r etc rids to be pulling up the covering over him. Rhoda mo- 
tions Esther to move buck of chair. Then, in a loud voice, she 
calls in Paley's ear.) Paley ! ! 

Paley. {Starts, sits bolt upright, rubs eyes, and finally.) 
Must have been dreaming. I thought it was early morning and 
the milkman yelled. 'Twas my turn this morning to get up 
for the milk and see to the fire, and I haven't yet recovered 
from the effects. {Shakes Jiimself) To-morrow morning is Dr. 
West's morning ; day after to-morrow morning, Fred's morn- 
ing ; and the nest morning again my morning. {Shuddering 
with comic horror. ) By-r-r-r-r ! {Gets up, and, turning chair, 



joH:Nr delmer's daughtees. 49 

comes face to face witli Rhoda and Esther.) Angels and min- 
isters of — ! 

Ehoda. And not the milkman. 

Paley. Ladies, I beg pardon. You must liave come in — 

Ehoda. We did. 

Paley. WitLout knocking. 

Esther. Oh ! yes, we knocked. 

Rhoda. No, dear ; — {to Paley) we pounded. 

Paley. Well I dreamt I — I heard a knockinof, but I thought 
it was the milkman. ( With frightened look, turns to Rhoda 
quickly) Did you hear me say anything '? 

Rhoda. No. 

Paley. Quite sure 1 

Esther. Not a word . 

Palet. {Believed.) I'm so glad. 

Rhoda. Why ? 

Paley. Because I also dreamt {angrily) I addressed the milk- 
man. You see he wakes us up every morning. 

Rhoda. Why do you let him do it? 

Paley. Well, as yet, we haven't succeeded in getting a 
domestic, and as we're all heavy sleepers, we made an arrange- 
ment with him — give him a cent a quart extra — to yell, until 
one of us makes an appearance. 

Rhoda. Who generally appears first ? 

Paley. Oh, always the one whose turn it is to start things 
for the day, see to the fires, prepare breakfast, etc. 

Esther. Does Fred have to do that ? 

Paley. Well, when it isn't my day, nor Dr. West's, in the 
early morning light we see a figure, very much like your hus- 
band, flitting about his household duties. (Esther raises her 
liands in kovror.) To-day was my day — which accounts for the 
way you found me. Fred and Dr. West had gone to the city 
and I had performed the after-breakfast ceremonies, clearing 
away the table and {shuddering) washing the dishes, so I sought 
repose after my fatigue. 

Esther, And does Fred get tired once every three days ? 

Paley. Yes, every third day he sinks into that arm-chair, 
exhausted, just as I did this morning. 

Esther. Rhoda ! think of poor Fred preparing his own 
breakfast ! 

Paley. Not his only, madam, but ours as well. For the 
present, we've adopted the motto of the three guardsmen, " One 
for all, and all for one." 

Esther. And what do you have for breakfast 1 

Paley. There is, about our breakfasts, a monotony, which, 
to say the least, is — striking. We subsist principally upon — 
tea. 

Esther. Tea ? 

Paley. One morning we did try an innovation in the shape 
■ coffee. But {shaking his head sadly) — it was not a success. 

Esther. {Glancing sorrowfully at her.) Rhoda! 



50 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

Khoda. See what it is, dear, for a liouse to be without its 
mistress. 

Esther. And the other meals, Paley? 

Paley. Oil ! in them, as in everything else, we take turns. 
Though after my first dinner, it was unanimously agreed, that, 
in the interest of all parties, ??i2/ duties should extend no further 
than lunch. — But you didn't come to see how we live, but where. 
Behold the mansion ! 

Esther. It's small, but everything is so cosy. 

Paley. {Apart to Rhoda.) Show her her own room now ? 

Rhoda. Yes. 

Paley. Remember your promise. 

Rhoda. You've worked well, but all danger is not passed 
yet. 

Paley. And when it is ? 

Rhoda. I'll keep my word. {Indicating curtains over door- 
loay in whisper.) Now. 

Paley. {Going up to curtains) Mrs. Van Arneni ! You 
haven't seen the prettiest room in tbe house. 

Esther. Haven't I ? 

Paley. ( 2 hroioing bacJc curtains, standing aside, an d pointing 
to inner room.) It is here ! 

Esther. {Ooing to door at iaclc and looking into hack room.) 
Oh! what a pretty room! Look, Rhoda! look! (Paley and 
Rhoda exchange significant glances. Esther slowly enters the 
room, looking around and finally leaning against the table, facing 
audience, so as to form a picture.) This is beautiful. {Spoken 
half to herself.) 

Paley. Fred fitted it up himself. 

Esther. A perfect little cage ! 

Paley. Bird and all now. 

Rhoda. Paley says Fred never comes home that he doesn't 
bring some little ornament for that room. 

Esther. {Thoughtfully.) Truly? 

Rhoda. Do you know why, Esther ? 

Esther. {Extending her arms, as she looks lovingly around, 
her eyes raised and filled with a tender expression, her voice 
low and full of pathos). Because it is mine. {Sloioly she 
clasps her hands. Her eyes fall upon the work-stand. She 
raises the cover gently.) See ! here is my work-basket with 
everything I could wish — needle-case, and silk — and there's my 
name. {Looks at it fixedly, then reads.) " Esther Van Arnem" 
— and — here's a glove — torn. Fred has left it for his little wife 
to mend — {tears in her V(-ice) — and there has been no little wife 
to mend it. {Still holding the glove in both hands, she looks up, 
and the sight of the room seems to overcome her. She then looks 
to Rhoda and extends her hand.) Rhoda ! {moving toward her) 
Rhoda, I'm a very, very wicked g^irl. {Throws one arm about 
Rhoda's neck andbursts into tears.) 

West. {Outside) What ho ! Paley ! 

Paley. Great ginger ! Dr. West is back again. 



JOHK delmer's daughters. 51 

Fred. {Outside.) Paley ! wbere are you ? 

Paley. Dr. Vau Arnem ! what's brought them home, I 
wonder ? 

Esther. {In alarm) What shall we do ? 

Rhoda. Stay and receive them. 

Esther. I shouldn't know what to say. Paley ! can't we 
get out without their seeing us ? 

Rhoda. Are you afraid to meet your husband ? 

Esther. {After a glance at t1ie back room, wliicli seems to 
decide her, turning to Rhoda, firmly) No. But 1 must have 
time to think. {Going doiDib L. and ttirning to them.) Oh ! don't 
be alarmed. The mistress of such a dear little home won't be 
long away from it. 

Paley. Good ! 

Esther. Tell me how we can get out. 

Paley. The same way you came in. Go right down the 
walk. They can't see you. 

Esther. Come, Rhoda ! Paley ! 1 want you to help me. 

Paley. I'll join you. Quick ! or you'll be too late. 

Esther. Dearr Fred ! you shan't wait long now for your little 
wife. 

Rhoda. They are here. {Exeunt Rhoda and Esther l.1 e.) 

Paley. {Crossing to door r. and looking out.) Fortunately 
they took the short cut and came up from the station by the 
back way. 

Enter West ra'pidly e., looking hack. 

West. {In hurried whisper.) Well, did she come ? 

Paley. Just gone out by the front way. 

West. {Crossing l.) Gone ? 

Paley. Coming back. 

West. Then your plan succeeded ? 

Paley. With the help of Miss Rhoda. 

West. Good! not a bit too soon. {Crossing to door 'R.) Fred, 
where are you ? Come in and announce the good news your- 
self. {Enter Fred sloicly r., with very dejected air. West 
takes his hand and lays a hand on his shoulder.) There, there, 
old man, cheer up ! Why ! who would think, to look at you, 
that you had just won a triumph ? Come now ! tell Paley all 
about it. 

Fred. {As Paley approaches eagerly, in sad, careless tone.) 
Paley, I've been elected. 

Paley. {Aside.) On a burial committee. 

Fred. What ? 

Paley. Oh ! I was remarking to myself that joy was not 
very violently depicted on your countenance. 

Fred. There's no joy in success, when she is not here to 
share it with me. {Sinking in chair before fire.) 

West. Courage ! she will share it. 

Paley. {Aside.) Sooner than he thinks. — I can't stop longer 
now, as glad as I am. Certain household matters demand my 



52 JOH]sr delmer's datjghtees. 

instautaneous attention, {Moving L. ; then nerwusly.) Oh ! 
there have been two girls here ; and I told one of them she 
might come and take the housekeeping jugt as soon as she 
liked. 

Fked. Any-\ioAy is better than no-ho&j. 

Paley. Nobody is better than this girl. I'm not much of a 
reader of character, but I'm sure this is the girl for the place. 
Besides, she's married, and her husband, Fred — can take care 
of your horse. I thought it would be nice, having husband 
and wife both here — and — and- — {Seeing West laughing.) Don't 
you think so, Dr. West ? 

West. Couldn't have anything better. 

Paley. I — I've been thinking out just such a plan for a 
week past. You see, I know the husband ; he lives here at 
Irviugton. (Fred has his back turned to West and Paley, and 
sees none of their iy-play, especially West's attempts to entangle 
Paley in his talk.) 

West. Have you spoken to the husband about it ? 

Paley. Yes. 
I West. What did he say ? 

Paley. Oh ! he'd like to have his wife come. 

Fred. Why didn't he bring her, then, before this ? 

Paley. {Continually motioning West to keep silent.) He 
couldn't. She was away, stopping with some relatives near 
here. She only came home this morning. Finding we had 
work for her here, she decided at once to come. She'll be here 
soon, with her husband. 

Fred. Then we'll see them both together. 

Paley. Yes. 

West. You're a capital manager, Paley. 

Paley. {Moving l.) I'm going to see about them now. 

West. Have you to go far, Paley ? 

Paley. {Nervously.) N — not very. {Moving again.) 

West. You say he lives here at Irvington ? 

Paley. ( Very nervous. ) Yes. 

West. Where ? 

Paley. Why — er — he — er — Oh ! you mean where is their 
home ? 

West. Yes. 

Paley. {With sudden thought.) Here! I'll show you. {Lead- 
ing West to loindow. ) You can see from this window. See that 
house over yonder ? {Points.) 

West. Yes. {Amused.) 

Paley. The next one to this. 

West. Yes. 

Paley. {Pointedly.) Well, he lives in the very next one to 
that. {Look of triumph at West, and quick exit L.l e.) 

Fred. Two weeks are gone by, and Esther is not here. 
Leonard, how long must I wait 'i 

West. Until she comes. 

Fred. That may be — 



JOHIS" dblmer's daughtees. 53 

West. No matter wlien. A week, a month, a year, if nec- 
essary. 

Fred. I am causing her the first sorrow she ever felt in her 
life. 

West. Then you are laying the foundation for the first hap- 
piness. 

Fred. Happiness ! Why, whenever she appeared, she scat- 
tered light and joy over everything. 

West. Then let her appear here. 

Fred. Flowers seemed to blossom under her feet, wherever 
she stepped. 

West. {Looking around floor.) Then I prophesy, these 
rooms shall yet be flower gardens. 

Fred. Leonard, she was never born to suffer. She was 
made to be carried over the thorns of life in the arms of love. 
And I have been trying to change this, to uproot a flower from 
Paradise, in order to plant it in a world of trouble and care. 

West. And when the winds of experience in that world 
sweep over the little flower, it will nod its pretty head in thanks 
— yes, sir, thanks — that you took it from a fool's Paradise and 
placed it in a woman's loorld — a home. 

Fred. What ? she come here ? I've no right to expect such 
a sacrifice. 

West. Sacrifice? Making a happy home, a sacrifice ? Our 
mothers and grandmothers thought it a privilege, as every 
true woman does now. And Esther's a true woman, only she 
hasn't been allowed to think. Sacrifice ! There's no higher 
mission on the face of this earth than that intrusted to woman. 
Man is only a hread-viinnev ; his very stock in trade is out of the 
earth ; woman is the /tome-builder, the giver of happiness ; her 
capital is from Heaven. 

Fred. The whole world smiled when Esther was glad ; and. 
she was ahcays glad — happy as a little child. 

West. Sweet as that happiness was, there is a greater — the 
happiness of a woman, the true mistress of a true home. 

Fred. But Esther's home is — 

West. Here, in her husband's house, and nowhere else. My 
dear fellow, in this part of the world people are willing to live 
in hotels, in restaurants, in boarding-houses, anywhere, every- 
where, except their own homes. I expect anything of society 
that allows such a method of existence. Look where you please 
for the source of most evils of to-day. / tell you, they are 
traceable to the want of homes. Give me a liome, if it's a house 
with only one room and a chair. I say again, your wife be- 
longs here. 

Fred. No, it is not so. The change would be too great. I 
wrong her, every moment tliat I stay from her side. Dear, 
patient little Esther ! — I give it up. I'm going to her. Leonard, 
I'll throw myself at her feet and beg her forgiveness. 

West. {Taking Ms hand and feeling Ids pulse.) What a 
pity a man cannot feel his own pulse ! Yours is galloping. 



54 JOHIT delmer's daughtees. 

But {looking around) go on ; free your miud ; no one can 
bear. 

Fred. I've tried your plan ; now try mine ; my heart — 

West. Oli ! let your heart alone. In a crisis like this, trust 
your head. 

Feed. Don't try to persuade me ; I'm going. Esther shall 
suffer no longer. '{Grossing.) 

West. {Detaining 1iim.) She's not suffering ; she hasn't 
liad a chance. 

Fred. I must, I will go after her. 

West. Well, not yet ; wait a little longer — say three days. 

Fred. {Starting.) No. 

West. {Holding Mm.) Two. 

Fred. No. 

West. Twenty-four hours. 

Fred. No ! No ! 

West, {Beleasing Mm. Then seating Mmself 'before fire.) 
All right. Go ahead. Destroy your wife's happiness and your 
own. While you're away, I'll sit down here and design a coat- 
of-arms for you. 

Fred. Coat — of — arms 1 

West. Yes, the setting sun crossed by a hayrick, sur- 
mounted by a thistle and one donkey — rampant. 

Fred. Leonard! {A ktiock Jieard off 1..1 'k.) 

West. Wow you wMst stay, to receive your visitors. 

Fred. Who are they ? 

West. {Balancing tJie poker.) Go and see, my boy. (^:raY Fred 
L. 1 E., after an impatient gesture at West. Leaning tcith one 
elbow on arm of chair and looking l.) If it's Esther she's just in 
time. Hercules's twelve labors were nothing to my one — of 
keeping this impulsive fellow here for two weeks. At times, 
I felt as if I could use Hercules's club to advantage. As a rule, 
where " hearts" lead, you'd better follow pretty closely with 
"clubs." {Pause.) Paley said there were tioo girls. (Stops 
balancing poker, and holds it still in Jiis hand. Slight pause.) I 
wonder who the other one was. 

Enter Fred l. 1 'e. , folloiced by Mrs. and Mr. Delmer, 

Fred. {Speaking as he enters.) Yes, we returned early, 
that my cousin miglit keep his appointment. 

West. (Rising.) And also that I might celebrate my 
cousin's election. Mrs. Delmer, good-morning. Mr. Delmer. 
Congratulate the successful candidate. He now holds, in our 
xmiversity, the position for which he has striven so hard, which 
has never before been held by so young a physician. 

Mrs. D. What ! really elected"? 

West. Yes, madam, really elected. 

Mrs. D. John ! 

Delmer. My dear. : . 

Mrs. D. Is this what you said would happen ? 

Delmer. Not exactly, 



joHisr delmer's daughters. 55 

Mrs. D. What have you jjot to say now ? 

Delaiek. Whatever you say. 

West. {AsideS) As usual. 

Mrs. D, Oh ! I always said Fred would make his mark. 

Delmer. (Apart to hf-r.) But you didn't say he'd make it 
across the Delmer coat-of-arms. There's no mistake about it, my 
dear ; we are wiped out. 

Mrs. D. Anyhow, Fred, I'm jxlad you've done well, and 
there's my hand — both of 'em. You know I never thought ill 
of you. 

Dklmer. {Aside.) She never thought of him at all, Fred 
{crosses and gives Ids hand), I'm glad too, but — I don't know 
how you did it. {To West.) He wouldn't even give the trus- 
tees a dinner. 

Mrs. D. Nor use a cent of what we offered him, and even re- 
fused to let his father-in-law spend money judiciously, just to 
make the thing sure. 

Delmer. And yet he's elected. Either the world is going 
around the other way, or I'm asleep and dreaming. 

West. No, Mr. Delmer, you are just awaking — awaking to 
the fact that there are men who think more of honor and 
honesty than of a bribe. 

Fred. No matter now about my success. How is Esther ? 

Delmer. It isn't our fault, Fred, that she's stayed away; 
make him understand that, my dear. 

Mrs. D. I was perfectly willing for her to come, after the 
way you both behaved to us. (West about to remonstrate.) 
Oh ! but I will speak. You could, just as easy as not, have 
taken away our girls' respect, maybe love for their father, but 
you spared them and him, and that's a thing their mother can't 
forget. I know our girls are a long ways ahead of us, and — 
and I've made up my mind not to stand in their way. 

Delmer. Now, my dear. (Jb West.) She would come to 
tell you, although I said the appointment was business. 

Mrs. D. There's no business half so important to me as the 
happiness of Margie and Esther. 

Delmer. That's true. A day or two after you left, she says 
to me, "John, we are a drag upon those two girls." Says I 
to her, " My dear, we are an anchor." " If society," says she, 
" ico7i't have us, it icon't." "And it evidently won't," says I. 
"Then," says she, "let us stand down, out of the way, and 
give the girls a chance." Says I, "Agreed." And here we 
are — down. 

Mrs. D. Esther would have been here long ago, only Margie 
wouldn't let her come. 

Delmer. But if Dr. West would just let me speak out — 
(West shakes his head) — just one word — the least little — 

West. Your promise, Mr. Delmer. 

Mrs. D. But Margie's got some faint idea that — 

Delmer. {In frightened tones to West.) N — n— not from 
me. 1 — I — I haven't opened my lips once, not even to — my 



56 jOHisr delmer's daughters. 

dear, you Tcnoio, wLen- she's called him everything she could 
think of before me, that I never said a single word. 

Mks. D. She thinks it's still that railroad, and declares 
she'll sift the matter to the bottom. She rode over witli us. 

West. Indeed. {Aside.) Then there's no time for me to 
lose. 

Delmee. I'm afraid she'll be here. 

West. I hope so. 

Delmer. What ! {In alarm.) 

West. Miss Manly tells me she can't go mucli longer with- 
out oiving Margaret some answer to her searching questions. 

Mrs. D. Well ? 

Delmer. What'll you do? 

West. I made this appointment with you to-day, to tell you. 
Fred, will you and Mrs. Delmer kindly consent to examine care- 
fully every room in the house but this one ? 

Mrs. D. Yes, I want to see the home you've made for my 
daughter, and to tell you, Fred, how impossible it is for her to 
live without you. 

Fred. {Eagerly.) Mrs. Delmer, I know the quietest corner in 

the house, and if you'll only give me hope that Esther's coming 

to her home, I promise to let you talk for the rest of the day. 

Exeunt Fred and Mrs. Delmer tliroiigli Esther's room. 

West. Mr. Delmer, our business will take only a moment. 
You brouofht the Vancouver and Portland certificates ? 

Delmer. I did, because you made a point of it, in your letter, 
but I don't understand. 

West. You will. {He has taken a paeJcet from a drarcer. 
He opens the packet and takes out papers.) First have the kind- 
ness to tell me whether this is correct. {Handing a paper.) 

Delmer. {Looking over it.) "Acknowledgment on the part 
of Leonard West and Fred Van Arnem — all claims of estate 
of Richard Vai'ri/a gainst John Delmer this day cancelled 
hy payment of — " {Pause.) It's for ^om to say whether it's 
right. 

West. {Who is looking over other papers.) It is right. 

Delmer. But there's no need of this. {Paper.) 

West. A matter of business, Mr. Delmer. We are both busi- 
ness men. 

Delmer. Why, the wealth we've enjoyed all these years 
came from that money. 

West. We have claimed what satisfies us. 

Delmer. The law entitles you to everything I possess. 

West. Here is your receipt ; and here, John Manly's con- 
fession. It has caused his daughter much trouble and pain. 
You will, I'm sure, agree with me that we grant her the satis- 
faction of destroying this with her own hands, 

Delmer. By all means. 

W'K&T puts paper down on table R. c.,in a conspicuous 
place for audience ; then hands the partnership paper to 
Delmer. 



jOHif delmer's daughters. 57 

West. This belongs to you. 

Delmer. {Handing checks.) And these to yoit. Three checks 
amounting as you see to the sum which you are pleased to say 
discharges iny indebtedness to the heirs of Richard Varry. 

West. Correct. 

Delmer. {Holding West's acknowledgment down and look- 
ing at it strangely.) I never felt so mean at taking a receipt 
for money. 

West. Now for the other matter. These, you say, are all 
the certificates of the Vancouver and Portland R.R. ? {Laying 
hand ttpon papers.) 

Delmer. Yes. 

West. How much have you lost by this unfortunate affair? 

Delmer. Forty thousand dollars. 

West. ( Ojyens check-hook and writes as he speaks.) Margaret, 
from questioning Esther and Miss Manly, as to what happened 
that night in the conservatory, knows I've done you some 
kind of a service. 

Delmer. Yes. 

West. She will not rest without an explanation. She 
believes I have made a sacrifice, to save you from loss, but 
thinks it is in reference to this railroad. She is coming to ask 
if that be true. 

Delmer. (Anxiously.) Well? 

West. {Handing him the elieck he has teen making out.) I 
shall answer "Yes," and so prevent the belief ever entering 
her mind, that anything else has passed between us. That I 
may speak the truth, here is my check for forty thousand dollars. 
(Delmer draws hack in amazement.) {Firmly.) I take no 
refusal. The entire stock of the Vancouver and Portland Rail- 
road /buy. 

Delmer. Well, but you — 

West. Don't you see it must be done ? 

Delmer. But — such — a — price ! 

West. I pay it for the happiness of my future wife. 

Delmer. Now, see here {pointing to papers of B. JR.), this is 
only just so much wiiste paper. 

West. Then let us treat it as such. {Takes ^tp papers and 
throws them into the fire. As they hum, he, still standing hefore 
fireplace, turns and, p)ointing to papers, says, in quiet voice.) 
Is it clear to you, how the business of my wife's father must be 
conducted hereafter ? 

Delmer. I give you my word of— yes, of honor — I begin to 
feel what it means now — that you shall never regret your treat- 
ment of me. It has made me another man. 

West. Then, to that other man I offer the hand and help 
of a friend. {He extends his hand, and advances. Delmer seizes 
and holds it in a firm grasip. Second's patise. — Enter Esther 
L. 1 E. , followed hy Paley and Rhoda, Paley carrying a basket, 
Esther and Rhoda eaeJi a bundle.) 

Esther. {Bustling about, taking off things, etc. , her manner 



58 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

a little nervous, but yet calm.) Ali ! we liave visitors. Good- 
morninor, Dr. West ; good-mornii]g, papa. I'm glad you came 
over to see us. Did you leave mamma well ? I've been making 
a few purcliases for dinner, and am too busy now to stop and talk. 

Delmer. ( Who has been loatcMng her in amazement.) Es- 
ther here ? 

EsTHEiL Certainly, papa. Didn't you expect to find me in ? 
This is my day at home. Besides, to-day we celebrate Fred's 
election. 

West. Your mother is here, too ; she and Fred are some- 
where about the house. We shall have quite a family party. 

Esther. {Who, at the mention of Y'ked'^ name, lias droiJ-ped 
the rolls site vms taking out of the basket, now speaks in a voice zchich 
sheinvairi tries to render calm, her manner growing tnore nervous 
to end of scene.) And Margaret will be here presently. (West in 
turn grows nervous. Esther crosses to him) You'll have to 
entertain her, for I've a great deal to do before dinner. Come, 
Rlioda, come, Paley, bring the things to the kitchen. {Qmng 
up c. to room at back.) 

Paley, You can't get to the kitchen that way. 

Esther. Of course not ! What am I thinking of ! (Ooes 
toward l. 1 e.) 

Paley. (At door k.) This is the door. 

Esther. I declare ! It makes one quite confused having so 
many guests. 

Rhoda. We'd better prepare things here first. 

Esther. Just as you say, Rhoda. {To West and Mr. Delmer 
'who have, been at the fireplace.) You and papa go and keep Fred 
away till everything is ready, and {to West) come back your- 
self first, to see. 

West. The mistress of the house must be obeyed. I will 
see that you are not disturbed. 

Esther. Thank you, cousin Leonard. {Exeunt West and 
Delmer at back and l.) Now to set the table! Rhoda, get my 
apron and cap ready. 

Paley. {Opening cupboard door r.) Here we are ! as fine a 
lot of table-linen as ever was bought. 

Esther. {Sitting down on the floor in front and puUing out 
linen in reckless and nervous haste.) Here! tablecloth, nap- 
kins — take as many as we need. {Gounting.) Five — six — sev- 
en — eight. {Pitches the rest back.) Put them in order, Paley. 

Rhoda. {Having unwrapped parcel and taking out a dainty 
bib apro7i and a neat white cap.) Now, Esther ! 

Esther. {Going to her.) Here we are! (Rhoda _p?<te cap 
on her. She rtms to glass, 'Rkot> a. follows and puts apron on. 
V ALKY spreads cloth. Estheu fixing cap.) So! little more ofE 
the forehead. Leave the strings untied ? All right. A pin. 
(Rhoda pins the apron to her dress across the breast, Esther 
holding the two ends.) Well, how do I look ? like a respectable 
doctor's wife ? 

Rhoda. Charming ! 



jOHis" delmer's daughters. 59 

Palet. Tou look fit to prepare only ambrosia for tlie 
Olympic luncli. 

Esther. Rhoda, you finish here, while Paley and I go to 
the kitchen. Take the basket, Paley, and go on ahead. 

Paley. {Does so.) To the regions of Pluto. Ganymede 
himself will show the way. {Exit B.) 

Esther. Oh, how tired it makes me to keep house ! {Aside, 
as sJie stops at door R.) But I'm at home. What a sound the 
word has ! It goes right to the heart. Be quiet, be quiet, my 
heart ; don't let any one see how you throb. {Exit R.) 

Rhoda. Almost everything is as I want it now. Margaret 
has no thought of what has really passed between her father 
and Dr. West. But she's coming to question him. What will 
he, what can he say 1 He's given his word, and that is enough. 
Yes. {She moves slowly and thoughtfully toicard table R. c, on 
wliich the paper left by West is lying. Stops. After moment's 
thought.) There is no other way in which she could learn the 
truth — none. {She has reached the table, and, at the last tcord, 
is leaning agcdnst it. One hand supporting her elbow, her chin 
resting on her other handjier eyes bent in thought upon the floor, 
she does not see the paper. Holding the position a moment, then 
in a half-troubled tone.) I wish it were all over, for her sake, 
as well as mine. {Three distinct knocks off L. 1 E.) At last ! 
now neither of us will be long in suspense. {Exit L. 1 E.) {A 
short pause tohen she re-enters, followed &^ Margaret.) Come 
in. There's no one here but me. 

Marg. And I had made up my mind to meet him. I'm 
almost tempted now to go away again. 

Rhoda. Oh ! you must see him. 

Marg. Where is he ? 

Rhoda. {Pointing.) In there, with your father and mother 
and Dr. Van Arnem. 

Marg. ^I shall have to summon all my courage again. 

Rhoda.' Why ? What is there to fear? 

Marg. You don't know what this costs me. 

Rhoda. It is only justice to him. 

Marg. {Looking anxiously around.) Yes, that's true, but — 

Rhoda. {Pretended alarm.) You still care for him ? 

Marg. Rhoda ! how can you say such a thing ! Care for 
him indeed ! {Trying to speak calmly, but succeeding no better 
than Esther, though her manner is more quiet.) The little 
regard I may once have felt for him has been destroyed by his 
cruel behavior. 

Rhoda. {Smiling.) You forget you are here now, only to 
acknowledge you were mistaken. 

Marg. But there are so many other things to make me hate 
him. 

Rhoda. {Appealingly.) Yet you don't hate him. 

Marg. {Pulling at her glove.) D — don't I ? 

Rhoda. Not altogether. {Tenderly, arm around her.) 
Come, bend your pride ; don't let it forever iight against your 



60 JOHN delmer's daughtees. 

better self. Now, tell me, your friend. Don't you love liim a 
little ? (Margaret has her back turned to Ehoda and shakes 
her head.) Not the least bit in the world ? 

Marg. Rhoda, why do you question me so ? 

Rhoda. Because I don't see how any woman can help lov- 
ingr such a man. 

Marg. {Qwkkly.) Do you love him ? 

Rhoda. I co{tld (aside), for what he's done for 7ier. 

Marg. Then do. {Piqued.) You should have said lonof 
ago what was troublinof you. {laying to ajjpear surjmsed and 
unconcerned.) It's nothing whatever to me, who loves him or — 
or whom he loves. You'd never be happy with him, but — 
don't let any thought of me prevent your loving him. He's 
nothing to me. 

Rhoda. Nothing? 

Marg. {With forced laugh.) Why, certainly not. 

Rhoda. Then why are you afraid to meet him ? 

Marg. He'll think I've yielded. {Quickly.) You know 
yourself, Rhoda, I came only because I didn't want him to 
suiFer any longer on account of my anger. Now, don't 
you? 

Rhoda. You simply wish to acknowledge that you wronged 
him by your suspicions. 

Marg. I wish it were over and I away from this house. 

Rhoda. Then we'll have it over. I'll tell him at once you 
are here. {Going tip c.) 

Marg. Rhoda ! Rhoda ! {Catching her hy the arm.) 
Wait a moment. {Slight pause.) You are sure my motive in 
coming here will not be misunderstood? 

Rhoda. Margaret. {Taking hoth hands and looking her 
straight in the eyes.) No one can mistake your leeliugs. 

Marg. It's all your fault. You should have lold me at 
once that the man had made a sacrifice for father. 

Rhoda. But I could not explain. 

Marg. Will he? 

Rhoda. He says so. {She starts a second time, hut Marga- 
ret, loho 1ms kept hold of her wrist, again draws her hack.) 

Marg. We ought to forgive our enemies ; oughtn't we ? 

Rhoda. Yes, particularly those — 

Marg. Oh ! I make no exceptions. It's my duly to act 
toward Jiim, as I would toward any one I felt disposed to for- 
give. 

Rhoda. Certainly. {She starts a third time, and is held 
hack.) 

Marg. You are sure he will not think I am yielding ? 

Rhoda. Tell him so yourself ; then any doubts he may have 
will disappear entirely. 

Marg. Then you'd better tell him, that I am ready to see 
him. (Rhoda goes up hack ; Margaret crosses toward r. ) I 
will forgive him, if 1 can. {Crosses to table R. c.) 

Rhoda. {Runshalf down from Estweu's, room.) He's com- 



JOHN" delmer's daughters. 61 

ing. (Margaret seizes the table, as she leans against it.) I'll 
leave you. Esther's waiting for me in the kitchen. 

Marg. This will never do. I — I must appear calm. 
(West is seen to cross the window 0/ Esther's room.) 

Ehoda. {Aside at door R.) How I tremble. I'm as anxious 
as she is to know the end. {With a quick glance in direction of 
West's step, exit door R.) 

Enter West at same instant in Esther's room. Marga- 
ret has seated herself right of table, her arm resting 
directly across the paper. West starts at sight of her, 
and reynains in recess. 

West. {Aside.) Too late ! I left that paper on the table. 
If she chances to see what's written outside, it will be impossi- 
ble to conceal the rest from her. Has she seen it 'i {Coming 
down.) Margaret ! 

Marg. Dr. West. 

West. {Noticing her arm bver paper. — Aside.) Why does 
she keep the paper under her arm ? 

Maro. You are doubtless surprised at seeing me. 

West. {Aside.) If she even looks down, the words will 
catch her eye. 

Marg. {Aside.) I must conceal my agitation from him. 
{Ahud.) Dr. West. 

West. Margaret ! {Aside.) To ask for the paper will only 
direct her attention to it. 

Marg. I came that I might — 

West. You are here. That is enough for me. {He ap- 
proaches the table; in her nervotbsness at his approach she 
clutches the paper nervously.) {Aside alarmed.) Maybe she's 
seen it already. 

Marg. I came only to set your mind at rest. 

West. And what more could I ask ? {Trying to take the 
paper.) 

Marg. {Rising, still Jiolding paper.) You misunderstand 
me. I came to acknowledge that I wronged you, and to apolo- 
gize. Persistent questioning on my part at last compelled 
Khoda to confess that you saved my father a great loss at some 
sacrifice to yourself. 

West. {Trying to get paper.) She told you tJiat, did she? 

Marg. {Drawing back) Yes, but not what the sacrifice 
was, nor why it was made. 

West. ( Very nervous.) Well, I tried to conceal it from 
you, but as circumstances have conspired against me, I must 
confess to a — slight sacrifice. 

Marg. Father would have met with a heavy loss but for 
you ; is it not so ? 

West. Yes. Of course you know what the loss Avas. 

Marg. The Vancouver and Portland Railroad. 

West. {Aside. ) She has not noticed the paper. He would, 
without a doubt, have met with a heavy loss by the Vancouver 
and Portland. 



63 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

Marg. Aud you saved liim from it. 
^ West. {Olancing at paper, unseen hy her.) He isn't entirely- 
safe yet. 

Marg. Then your work is not complete ? 

West. No. 

Marg. Do you intend to finisli it ? 

West, If I can. 

Marg, What hinders you ? 

West. His daughter. 

Marg. Which one ? 

West. The elder. She holds in her own hands the happi- 
ness of us all. 

Marg. (In amazement.) I? 

West. You. 

Marg. I understand. You have done enough to gain the 
father and mother, but not enoupfh to move the daughter. 

West. I would have kept everything from her, but by 
doubting the man she loved — 

Marg. What ! I love ? 

West. I beg your pardon ; I'm constantly making that 
mistake ; I should have said the man who loved her. However 
that may be, her doubts have forced him to admit what he 
would rather have kept from her. 

Marg. Why keep it from her ? 

West. He hoped to be loved for himself alone. (Aside.) 
Oh ! for that paper ! 

Marg. And he made this sacrifice — ? 

West. Because of his love. 

Marg. Why, then, is it not complete ? 

West. I've told you. It depends upon you. 

Marg. How ? 

West. By doing what I ask. 

Marg. What ? 

West. Give me your — your trust. (Sheis moving the paper 
nervously, holding it with ioth hands, and beginning to looTi at it, 
though unconsciously. He, dbsermng this, redoubles his efforts.) 
Look me in the face, and say you will atone for the past by 
believing in me. {Again she is on the point of examining the 
paper, when he again takes her attention off' by speaking quickly.) 
I — I — I acknowledge I made a sacrifice for your sake. Don't 
humble me by making me confess the extent, for I — I couldn't 
do that. 

Marg. Nor do I ask it. I merely wish to know how the 
completion of the sacrifice rests with me. 

West. ( Very nervous. ) In this way. I made it for your 
sake. Now if you still withhold your trust — for that is what I 
need most of all — my sacrifice has been in vain. 

Marg. I came to confess I had wronged you. 

West. Yes. 

Marg. And to ask your pardon. 

West. Nothing more ? 



JOHN delmer's daijghtees. 63 

Maeg. I don't see tliat jou. sliould expect anytliiag more of 
me. I've forgiven you. 

West. Forgiven me. Why. (Aside, checking himself and 
changing his tone.) Oh ! to get that paper I'll admit anythiuof. 
(Aloud.) Yes, Margaret, you have forgiven me, and have 
come yourself to tell me so. 

Marg. {QuicMy.) Not because I've yielded, though. 

West. No — no — no, certainly not. Tou haven't yielded an 
atom. I yield. {Extending Ms hands as he approacJies her.) 
Give me your hand — both hands — and I will tell you about 
this railroad. 

Maeg. {Drawing hack.) No, Dr. West, I will leave some- 
thing to my credit in the matter. I %Dill not be altogether un- 
generous. I came to acknowledge — and I say frankly — I have 
wronged you. I tried to make you believe I felt bitter toward 
you — when — {Pause.) 

West. Well, Margaret, when — ? 

Makg. {Quickly.) When I did not. You have acted 
generously, and I refuse to be outdone in generosity. I con- 
fess that the whole trouble arose from my foolish pride. Now 
what have you to say 1 {Air of triumph.) 

West. The only thing I've ever said, since we first met, 
"Margaret, I love you ; be my wife." 

Maeg. I didn't come to discuss that. I think I'd better 
go. {Crossing toward L.) 

West. {Preventing her.) Not until you've told me what 
I'd rather hear than all else you've said. Speak the one word, 
Margaret, that I've waited all this time to hear. {Pause — she 
looks doion. He draws nearer.) Won't you ? 

Maeg. If I were to speak it — ■ {He moves as if to take her 
hand. She draxos hack and continues quickly .) I said (f I were 
to speak it, you'd say it was only from gratitude. 

West. I shouldn't want to hear it if I tliought that. Can't 
you trust me? 

Maeg. {Earnestly.) Trust you ? I — there, see what you've 
made me do. I've torn this paper. 

West. {Eagerly ahout to take it, to prevent her looking at it.) 
N — n — n — matter about the paper. 

Maeg. But it may be soniething important. It was on 
the table there, and I never thought. How stupid of me ! But 
it's your fault. 

West. Yes, I ought not to have left it there. 

Maeg. Then it is important. I have done mischief. 

West. Not at all. Why ! {Laughing.) Tear it to pieces 
if you like. 

Maeg. You say that to make me feel easy. {Slie is raising 
the paper to look at it. He catches her hand. ) 

West."' What ! not trust me even in the matter of a simple 
piece of paper ? 

Maeg. It isn't that I doubt your wor(3, but — 

West, What is it, then ? {As she laughingly raises her 



64 JOHN" delmer's daughters. 

hand again, lie again stops her.) I — I — I tell you wliat we'll do. 
Suppose we make this the final test of our mutual confidence. 

Makg. a piece of paper ? 

West. I — I know it's a trifle, all the better ; it's a good test 
case. I say that paper may be torn — yes, that I would like to 
see it torn into a th<uisand pieces. You doubt my word. You 
say you trust me. Well, I doubt your word. Now a very 
simple act will prove that we may trust in each other im- 
plicitly. 

Marg. What act? 

West. Tear that paper into bits. {As she raises it.) Ah 1 
don't look at it ! {Forced laugh.) If you do tliat your confi- 
dence will not be proved. I haven't said whether it is impor- 
tant or not. I'll not say. Tear it on your simple faith in my 
word, and I'll know you trust me. Tear it in obedience to my 
wish, and I'll trust you forever. 

Marg. {Wavering.) It is so simple. 

West. Yet it is all I ask. Come now — the last proof you 
shall ever give me. It shall be the answer to my ques- 
tion. {Music. — She hesitates, holding the paper dozen in 
front of her, and looking steadily at him. At last, her eyes still 
upon him, she slowly tears it in two, then quickly into smaller 
bits. West watches her excitedly, and as she finisJies — ) You 
do trust me ? 

Marg. Yes. 

West. And love me? 

Marg. Yes. 

West. And you will be my wife. {SJie looks tip at him. 
He catches her in his arms, then, as her head is on his breast, he 
looks doion into her face.) At last ! Now I'm repaid for every- 
thing. Oil ! I confess it now — the doubt, the fearful anxiety, 
the silence of these three long years. 

Margaret quietly places the bits of paper in Ids hand, still 
looking into his face. Enter Fred hastily at back, fol- 
lowed by Delmer and Mrs. Delmer. 

Fred. Margaret ! ! 

West. Ah ! Fred, I said it would be a day of rejoicing. I, 
too, have been chosen to a position of honor and trust. 

Marg. {Giving her hand.) Fred ! 

Fred. I'm glad of this — but where's Esther ? 

Marg. Esther ? 

Fred. Didn't she come with you ? 

Marg. No. 

Fred. {To Delmer.) You said she was here. 

Delmer. I repeat it. Esther is in this house. 
Enter Esther door R. 

Esther. Quite right, papa. 

Fred. Esther ! 

She holds a large kitchen spoon in one hand, a plate tinder 
it with the other. Rhoda follows, and Paley, with a 
small dish. 



JOHN delmer's daughters, 65 

Esther. {Quietly crossing to Fred.) Have tlie kindness to 
taste this soup, Fred. How d' ye do, mamma? 

Fred. Esther! what happiness! 

Esther. Misfortune, you mean ; the soup is too salt. Taste 
it. Either Rhoda or I must be in love. 

Fred. Dear little wi fe ! To my heart ! 

Esther. {Drawing back quickly.) No, no, no ! you'll spill 
the soup all over you. 

Fred. Don't jest with me now. 

Esther. I'm not jesting ; it's a very important matter, 
whether the soup is too salt or not. {Holds out spoon to Idm.) 
Here ! 

Fred. But, Esther — 

EsTHEi?. Fred, you must first taste what I have cooked. 

Fred. You? Twill. {Tastes, and makes a wry face.) 

Esther. There ! how do you like your little housewife. 

Fred. She is beautiful. 

Esther. And the soup 1 

Fred. Excellent. 

Esther. {Aside.) At least a handful of salt in it ! — Eeally 
excellent. 

Fred. Delicious. 

Esther. {Griving plate, spoon, etc., to Rhoda.) Take it away. 
I have undeniable proof that you are under my slipper, so come 
1o my — kitchen apron. 

Fred. {Taking her in Ms arms) Under it beats the best 
and bravest heart in the world. 

Esther. And you beg my forgiveness ? 

Fred. Yes. 

Mrs. Delmer. 1 do, dear, for having kept you so long away 
from home. 

Delmer. {To Margaret.) And 1 for having kept you so 
long from Mm. {Pointing to West, then embrace^ her.) 

Paley has taken dishes from Rhoda and moved to taible. 
Mrs. Delmer joins Margaret and embraces her. 
West has met Rhoda hy table r. c. 

Rhoda. {Aside to him.) She is satisfied ? 

West. Yea. 

Rhoda The trath is safe from her ? 

West. Forever ! The only thing to reveal it was your 
father's confession. 

Rhoda. And that is — ? 

West. Here. {Placing in her hand.) You are not angry 
because it's in such a condition? 

Rhoda. {Taking his hand and pressing it loitli a look of 
gratitude.) Dr. West. {Goes tip to fireplace.) 

Esther. No.let the servants come tomorrow, Fred. To-day, 
the first day in our home, everything shall be done by my own 
hands. 

Fred. Esther ! 



66 JOHN delmer's daughters. 

Esther. You shall see what a perfect little housewife 
I am. 

Palet. Don't you think that for to-day, at least, the dinner 
might be intrusted to me ? 

Fred " C ('^''^'^'^^^'^^fi' empJiatically .) No ! ! ! 

Paley. May I not help ? 

Esther. {Extending her hand to him.) Yes, Paley. {To 
Fred.) Think what we owe to him. 

Paley. Not half as much as you owe to her. {Pointing to 
Rhoda.) 

Delmer. {Putting Margaret's hand into that of West.) 
Nor as much as 'you owe to him. 

Marg. {Looking at him earnestly.) I'll pay it all. 

West Your debt is more than paid in this. {Kissing her 
hand.) But, witli Paley, I must admit, the secret of our hap- 
piness is there. {Pointing to Rhoda.) 

Rhoda is standing hy the fire, her head resting against the 
mantelpiece, slowly throwing the pieces of paper in the 
fire. P Mj'e.y joins her , timidly touches her on the shoul- 
der ; she turns ; he points to the two couples. 

Marg. I don't think so. 
West. Indeed ? Wliy not ? 
Marg. Because it is here, in — {Hesitates.) 
West. Well, what ? 

Marg. The power of woman's love. {Throicing her arms 
around his neck.) 

Delmer and Mrs. Delmer are seated. Fred is leading 
Esther into the room. Rhoda gives Paley her hand, 
which he presst s to Ms lips. 

PICT u HE. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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